


Friendly Neighborhood . . . Venom?!

by Azaria_Serpens



Series: Venom (and Deadpool) are the Bad Influences Peter Needs in His Life [1]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: But Not Much, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Venom Symbiote (Marvel), I promise, Other, and a little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-09-16 21:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16961361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azaria_Serpens/pseuds/Azaria_Serpens
Summary: After everything that happened in San Francisco, Eddie decides they need a vacation. Besides, he hasn't seen his sister in forever, and it's not like anything could go wrong. Right?





	1. Venom is a Bitch and Mary is Done™

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah. This is basically just my take on if Venom was in the MCU and interacted with Spider-Man. Hope you like it!

At this point in his life, Eddie was reevaluating just about every decision he’d ever made up to now. Well, maybe that was a bit overkill, but he was definitely reconsidering more than a few things.

“Never should’ve come here,” he mutters, pacing to try and calm his nerves.

**It is not that bad.**

Eddie pauses, glaring at his feet. “Oh, yeah, of course. Not that bad. Because being trapped on the top of a building in New York because my parasite’s being a bitch is suddenly ‘not that bad’.”

**You are the bitch! And it is not our fault that you make poor decisions.**

“I think you mean decisions that keep us _alive_ and away from heroes.”

**Are we not heroes as well?**

“You know what I mean. Look, I told you before we left that eating people here was a big no-no, and you agreed. What’s the problem now?”

There’s a pause.

**We thought we could convince Eddie because he loves us and wants to keep his internal organs.**

“Wait, I thought you said you could deal with a temporary no-person diet. Were you lying?”

**. . . No.**

“You’re lying right now, aren’t you?”

**Maybe.**

Eddie sighs, holding his hand to his face. “Y’know what, I can’t deal with this right now. Take us back to Mary’s place and we can go over this later. This is a vacation, it’s supposed to be _un_ stressful.”

**No.**

“What do you mean no!”

Suddenly, there’s a flash of blue and red and in the next second there’s someone else on the roof with them.

“Hey, is everything okay here?” Spider-Man asks.

“Oh thank God,” Eddie mutters. “Yes, thank you. I’m kinda trapped up here, if you wouldn’t mind helping me down.”

**No! You have not agreed to our terms!**

“Shut up,” he hisses. Spider-Man gives him an odd look and Eddie quickly apologizes. “Sorry, not talking to you. So, can you help me?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m just curious though, how’d this happen?”

“Oh, it’s a long story, I’m sure you have better things to do. Just help me down please, I don’t do so well with heights.”

“Um, sure. But maybe you could tell me, today’s been pretty slow and I’m bored.”

Eddie blinks, varied scenarios flashing through his mind on how to explain why he was stuck on a rooftop. “Sure, I guess. Just get me down from here.”

“No problem, sir,” Spider-Man says, stepping closer. “I’m just gonna need you to hold on tight and not look down.”

“Huh?” Eddie says intelligibly before he’s suddenly free-falling through the air.

His first instinct is to scream like a little girl, but he was so shocked nothing seemed to be coming out.

The next thing he knows, his feet are on solid ground and there’s a voice speaking to him from a distance.

“Sir? Sir, are you alright?”

“What?” he whimpers. “What just happened.”

“I’m so sorry about that,” Spider-Man says, holding him up. “It was the fastest way to get you down.”

Eddie opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water before eventually taking a deep breath and trying to settle his nerves. “Kid, if I ever need rescuing again, it is _not_ going to be like that.”

“Hey, I’m not a kid!”

Eddie shakes his head and steps back. “Well, you sure sound like it. Just, don’t do that again, ever.”

“I’ll consider it. So, why were you up there in the first place? You said you’d tell me.”

Eddie pauses. “Yeah . . .” he starts, considering his options. After a few seconds, he decides to just go with a variation of the truth. “Well, me and my s/o got in a fight and they left me stranded up there.”

There’s a pause.

“They did what!” Spider-Man exclaims, shocking both Eddie and Venom. “What kind of person are they, you don’t just leave people on rooftops!”

“Whoa there, calm down, kid. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? Who just leaves people in dangerous places if they’re upset at them?”

“The thing I’ve chosen to spend my life with, apparently,” Eddie mutters, mostly to himself. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I already figured what they’re upset about and we’re gonna talk about it, okay.”

Spider-Man shifts uncomfortably. “Yeah, okay. But at least let me give you my number in case they do this again.”

“Oh, uh, that won’t be necessary. I don’t think they’ll be doing it again unless they wants to lose out on me getting them their favorite foods.”

**You would not!**

“Watch me,” Eddie mutters.

“Sorry, but I have to insist. I can’t just let innocent people get stuck on rooftops, what kinda hero would that make me?”

“A pretty crappy one, I guess,” Eddie says reluctantly.

“Great, here you go,” Spider-Man says, handing him a scrap of paper with his number scribbled on it.

“Thanks, kid,” he says, starting to walk away.

“Hey, wait, do I know you from somewhere? You look kinda familiar.”

Eddie freezes. “Uh, no, we don’t know each other. I just have one of those faces, y’know.”

“Yeah, got it. Have a nice day.”

“Um, you too,” Eddie says, watching Spider-Man swing away.

**We do not like him.**

“That’s just because he rescued me and you don’t have any more leverage.”

**We could always make you go back up there.**

“Don’t even think about it or no tater tots or chocolate for a week.”

**. . . Fine. But we do need to talk.**

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Let’s just get back to Mary’s place before we talk about it, okay?”

**Yes, we understand.**

“Great, then let’s get going,” Eddie says, walking out of the alley.

**. . .**

Later that day, something was still bothering Peter Parker. That guy he'd rescued from the roof, there was something off about him. His spidey-sense hadn't gone off like it usually did, so he was pretty sure everything was fine.

Well, except for the fact that he felt like he knew the guy, or had at least seen somewhere before.

It honestly frustrated him to no end, like when you recognize an actor on a TV show, but couldn't remember where you'd seen them before. It’s too bad this time he couldn't just find their name and look up their IMDb page. Nope, he'd have to do some good old-fashioned detective work.

Taking a deep breath, Peter turns on his laptop and opens his browser.

**. . .**

“Eddie!” Mary exclaims after she opens the door. “Where have you been, you didn’t call me after you were finished with your thing like you said you would!”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Eddie says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “W—I got distracted.”

Mary sighs. “That’s fine, I guess, but I was worried. Come in,” she says, stepping to the side.

Eddie walks in and crashes on the couch. Mary raises an eyebrow and sits in the chair.

“Rough day?” she asks.

Eddie glances up at her. “Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“I got stranded on a rooftop and Spider-Man had to rescue me.”

“Really, you met Spider-Man? What’s he like?”

“Polite. He also sounded pretty young, more Spider-Boy than ‘man’.”

“Well, I still think he’s pretty cool. Why were you on a roof anyways, I know heights freak you out.”

“Well . . .”

**You should tell her.**

Ignoring Venom, Eddie says, “It’s a long story, you don’t wanna hear it.”

Mary gives him an indecipherable look before shrugging and getting up. “Suit yourself. Dinner’s gonna be ready in a couple hours,” she says, starting to walk away.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. I’m just happy you wanted to see me.”

“Yeah. I just thought a vacation would be nice after everything.”

“I get it. But you still owe me the full story, not what the press told everyone.”

Eddie groans. “Do I have to?”

“You’re not paying me rent, so I’ve gotta get something out of this.”

“Really? How about seeing your brother for the first time in a few years, that’s gotta count for something?”

Mary pauses considerably. “Nah, I think I’ll take an interesting story.”

Eddie half-heartedly glares at her as she walks away, a smug smile on her face.

**You should tell her.**

“I know, I know. Just, not now.”

**Why not? You said she’d like us.**

“Yeah, well, it’s kinda hard to explain to your sister that her brother’s bonded with an alien parasite.”

**Hey! That’s not nice!**

“You’re the one who lied to me and put us in danger.”

**We will protect Eddie.**

“I know that, V, but it doesn’t change anything.”

**We are hungry, we need to eat.**

“I know. Look, I’ll do some research on stuff going on around here, but only this one time. We can’t let any of the Avengers or Spider-Man find out about us.”

**The puny heroes and the Spiderling are no match for us.**

Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, well, I’m not willing to test that theory out.”

**We understand.**


	2. Journalism Exploited for Plot Purposes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a disclaimer here, I have absolutely no experience with journalism except for the fact that I took it as an elective my freshman year. (Read: I don't know jack shit). So, just ignore my logical fallacies, and let me know if you find something wrong and out of place.
> 
> And now that's out of the way, enjoy a new chapter!

The next day when Eddie wakes up, his back slightly sore from sleeping on the couch, the first thing he sees is Venom’s head sitting on his chest, watching him with their big, unblinking eyes.

The first time the symbiote had done this, it scared the bejesus out of him and he’d kindly asked them to fuck off while he was sleeping. Unfortunately for Eddie, Venom did the opposite.

It still scared the living Hell out of him, but he’d gotten used to it for the most part. He no longer jumped up and screamed anymore, at least.

“Mornin’, V,” Eddie slurs, moving his arm over his face.

**“Good morning. Sleep well?”**

“Eh, sure. What time is it?”

**“Approximately 10:00.”**

“What?! Why didn’t you wake me up? Why didn’t _Mary_ wake me up?”

**“You never get enough sleep.”**

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean I should sleep in.”

**“Like you said, it is a vacation. We deserve nice things.”**

“Nice things also include food, V. You know when we don’t get breakfast, we get cranky.”

**“We ate while you slept. But we can eat someone later, if you want.”**

“Hm,” Eddie hums, still trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. He pauses. “Wait, no, I’m still mad at you. We’re in New York, so no people until I can find someone off the grid.”

Venom says nothing, but Eddie feels a vague disappointment over their bond.

“Hey, it’s your fault, you lied to me.”

**“You are the one that wanted a vacation.”**

“Yeah, well . . .” he trails off, not finding a point to argue.  “Look, I don’t really wanna fight about this anymore, okay. What’s done is done.”

**“Great. Can you start looking for food now, we are hungry.”**

Eddie sighs deeply. “Y’know, I’d like to relax today. Do some sightseeing, I dunno.”

**“We could always do that. But your pancreas is beginning to look quite tasty . . .”**

“No, bad Venom,” Eddie says, whacking the symbiote’s head.

They hiss at him before sinking back into their body.

Neither of them say anything for a few minutes, a semi-awkward silence settling over them.

Eventually, Eddie says, “Okay, how about we compromise. I get to take us sightseeing for a few hours, and after we get home I can start looking. That sound good?”

There’s a pause.

**Fine. But I think we have a better idea.**

Eddie scoffs. “Oh, really? And what’s that?”

**We may or may not have overheard some bad people talking yesterday, while you were visiting your old friends.**

“Uh-huh. You sure they were _really_ bad, or did you just see another group of shady teenagers? I already told you, they’re just kids—”

**And we do not eat children, yes, we know. Trust us, we know the difference now.**

“Yeah, forgive me if I’m still a little dubious. So, what were these alleged ‘bad people’ saying.”

**Something about a meeting place and a multitude of firearms being exchanged. We were not paying that much attention.**

Eddie sighs. “Well, they do sound like bad guys. Did you happen to catch the meeting place?”

**Yes. They mentioned the Williamsburg Bridge.**

“Any specific time?”

**Not sure. Probably ten or eleven.**

“Eh  it’s not a lot to go on, but we can still check it out.”

**Great. What do we do until then?**

“Like I said earlier, sightseeing. Plus, I wanna stop by the Daily Bugle and see if they’ll let me do a story for some money.”

**Ah, yes. Because we are broke.**

“More or less, yeah. I just need to think of somethin’ they’ll accept. They don’t really like me ‘cause of what happened back when I still lived here.”

**Sounds fun.**

Eddie scoffs. “Yeah, sure.”

They lay there in silence, neither willing to get up yet.

After a while, Venom re-emerges, their smile seemingly larger than before. **“You know,”** they start, an almost smug quality to their voice. **“You could write a story about those bad guys we are going to eat later.”**

Eddie sighs. “Obviously I haven’t taught you enough about how journalism works. First off, there might not even be a story. Second, how are you planning on getting any information about this?”

**“Your old contacts from here. Surely they don’t _all_ hate you.”**

“You’d be surprised,” he mutters. “Look, if it’ll make you happy, fine, I’ll look into it.”

**“Great. Now, if you want any time to go ogle boring architecture, we might want to get dressed now.”**

“It’s not _that_ bad, V Besides, I was also planning on taking you to this cookie dough place I heard about, but if you’d rather do something else . . .”

There’s a pause.

**“We will behave.”**

Eddie smirks. “That’s what I thought.”

**. . .**

Within the next few hours, they end up visiting the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty. Venom had been ecstatic when they found out they were very tall, and that you were allowed up that high. Eddie, on the other hand, was seriously regretting his decision to go sightseeing.

But, eventually, Venom decided that they’d had enough and were ready to head over to the Daily Bugle.

When they get there, Eddie is ready for the scathing looks, expecting pitchforks and torches. Surprisingly, they were few and far between. Not that he was complaining, he was very glad he didn’t have to deal with any of that. All he had to hope for now was that the new editor would be as forgiving.

He carefully knocks on the doorframe and J. Jonah Jameson glances up.

“Who are you?” he asks gruffly, looking back at his desk.

“Uh, Eddie Brock. I contacted you earlier about doing a freelance job for some money.”

“Oh, yeah. Come in, sit down,” Jonah says, gesturing at the chair in front of his desk.

Eddie nods and sits in the chair.

“You have a lot of nerve coming back here, Brock.”

Eddie’s heart sinks. He chuckles nervously. “Yeah. I’m, uh, actually on vacation here. After everything that went down in San Francisco I needed a break.”

“So you came here? Not very bright, are you.”

Venom growls in the back of Eddie’s mind, which he pointedly ignores. “Well, my sister lives here, and I hadn’t seen her in a while. ‘Sides, it’s nice to be back.”

Jonah scoffs. “Yeah, whatever. You were pretty sparing on the details of your story, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk about it.”

Eddie nods, taking a deep breath. “Okay, what I’ve got so far is a lead on some gun runners. I know where they’re meeting tonight and I was gonna go check it out and see what it was all about.”

There’s a pause.

“That’s it? You have a hunch?”

“Well, it’s a little more than that—”

“Nope, I’ve heard enough. Until you have more than this, I can’t offer you anything.”

“But—”

“No buts. Come back if you have something worth reporting.”

Eddie sighs, getting up. “Yeah, got it.”

**That did not go very well.**

“Yeah, thanks for pointing that out,” he mutters.

**Do not worry, we will get more information.**

Eddie scoffs. “Yeah, if anyone even wants to—”

He’s abruptly cut off when someone runs into him.

“Ah, shit,” Eddie says, moving to help the kid who’d fallen down. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was goin’.”

“No, it’s fine,” he says, brushing himself off, “it was my fault.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You good, um . . ?” Eddie trails off awkwardly.

“Oh, Peter,” the kid says, giving him an odd look. “Peter Parker. Sorry”

“Like I said, it’s good,” Eddie says, inching away. “Have a nice day.”

“Uh, you too, sir.”

He nods, turning back towards the elevator.

“That was weird,” he mutters after he’s in. There’d been something about the kid that seemed familiar.

**Eddie.**

“What?”

**We have changed our mind.**

“About what?”

**The Spiderling. He is a small child and we must protect him.**

Eddie pauses, confusion clouding his mind. “Uh . . . sure dude, whatever.”

It’s a few seconds later when it finally clicks.

“Oh my god,” he says, shock freezing him in place. “ _That_ was Spider-Man?”

**Yes. Did you not recognize his scent?**

“V, for the last time, I can’t do that. Jeez, how old was he, like, twelve?”

**Sixteen.**

“That’s not any better.” Eddie sighs, running a hand over his face. “I’m still confused, you don’t like teenagers. You’re always asking to eat them.”

**That is because most of them are rude to us. He is not.**

“That simple, huh?”

**Yes. We must protect him.**

“Yeah, I don’t think that’d blow over well. ‘Hey there Spider-Man, we’re a seven-foot monster that eats people and we’ve decided to adopt you, how does that sound?’ We’d freak the poor kid out.”

Eddie feels the disappointment float over their bond, his other obviously upset.

“Look, V, all I’m saying is that it would be best if we didn’t interact with him. If by some bad luck he comes across us before we leave, you can try and strike up a conversation. Just be prepared for lots of screaming and terror.”

**You did not think we were that scary.**

Eddie chuckles. “Trust me, I was plenty afraid when we first met.”

A feeling of smugness that is not his own washes over him.

Eddie shakes his head. “That’s not something to be proud of, love.”

**Maybe to you and your weak species.**

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks with mock offence.

**It is not incorrect.**

Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but pauses. He couldn’t really argue that. “Shut up,” he mutters.

A second wave of smugness settles over him and he pointedly ignores it.

**. . .**

“Who was that?” Peter asks Betty, one of the women he worked with, after the guy that knocked him down got on the elevator.

She gets a disapproving look on her face. “Eddie Brock. Used to work here before he screwed up big time and got run out. Heard he was in San Francisco as of late, had something to do with the whole Life Foundation fiasco.”

“Oh,” Peter nods. _That_ was why he recognized him the other day, he’d heard about all that. It was a pretty big deal, even on the other side of the country.

“Yeah. I’d stay away from him, he’s trouble,” Betty says.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Peter says offhandedly, not really meaning what he was saying. “Why’s he here?”

Betty shrugs. “Not really sure. I overheard him talking to the boss man about gun runners or something. He’s always been one to go after the really dangerous stuff.”

Peter nods, mulling over his options. He couldn’t just let an innocent get hurt because they thought they could handle it. Making an executive decision, he gets one of his spider trackers and sends it after him, hoping it would reach Eddie in time.

He quickly pulls out his phone and checks on it, watching until it finally settles and leaves the building.

Smiling, Peter puts his phone away. Well, at least tonight wouldn’t be boring.


	3. Venom vs Spider-Man . . . Maybe

“You sure about this, V?” Eddie asks, not daring to look down.

**Yes. Do not worry, we got you.**

“Yeah, sure,” he squeaks.

The next second, he feels Venom take over and leap off the bridge.

Eddie briefly considers screaming, but they hit the water before he has time.

Venom swiftly swims over to the shore, silently climbing up. Despite their size, they knew how to be quiet.

**“Where should we hide?”**

Eddie pauses, looking at the place through Venom’s eyes. The vision was different than his own, but he made do.

_Uh . . . try one of the bridge support columns. If you stay on one of the ones further back, they shouldn’t see you._

Venom quickly jumps up and climbs one, being careful to stay in the shadows. One thing they’d both learned rather quickly, was that no one ever bothered to look up.

After about half an hour of waiting, they see a large van pull up. Five guys climb out and two start setting up foldable tables while the other three start unloading some professional looking cases from the back.

**Now?**

_Not yet. We should wait for the buyer to get here._

It’s a few minutes after everything’s set up that another car pulls up.

**. . .**

Peter was confused. Granted, that was usually how he felt, but he had a good reason this time.

Eddie Brock was nowhere to be found.

Peter had followed his coordinates exactly, and he still couldn’t find the man. There were, however, some arms dealers getting ready to sell.

(He had Karen quickly confirm that they weren’t of alien origin, because he _really_ didn’t want to deal with that again)

It still perplexed him that the reporter wasn’t anywhere he could see. Peter knew his tracker was right, so where was he?

There wasn’t much more time to dwell on it, because the next second something leaps from behind one of the support columns and starts attacking.

It takes Peter a few seconds to recover, shock freezing him in place. Within that time, the thing manages to separate the bad guys into piles of ‘buyer’ and ‘seller’.

If Peter wasn’t so scared, it would almost be impressive.

“Karen,” he hisses, “what is that thing?”

“Searching database now,” Karen says, zooming in on the creature. “No match found, we have not encountered it before.”

“Great,” Peter mutters. He didn’t like flying blind.

As it was, he didn’t really want to confront the creature if he didn’t have to, so he stayed where he was, prepared to intervene if need be.

 **“What next?”** it asks, as though it was talking to itself.

There’s a brief pause before an affronted look takes over its face. **“You promised,”** it said, sounding petulant. **“What do you mean, it was this morning!”**

Peter watches, baffled. It wasn’t everyday you came across this sort of thing, even in New York.

It sighs, sounding more like a hiss than anything. **“Fine. How many?”**

Peter tenses, ready to jump into the fray.

**“Five . . . Three . . . One is unacceptable! . . . Three, take it or we will eat your appendix! . . . Why do you have a useless organ in your body?! . . . Your species is bullshit . . . We will not apologize, we are right! . . . Three or we’ll eat something you _need_ . . . No, your liver is gross, you drink too much.”**

There’s a much longer pause before the things smile gets wider, if that was even possible, and it turns to the buyers, who were still grouped together.

 **“Hm, which one first,”** it hums, holding its arm over them like it was a claw machine.

Peter starts crawling forward, keeping as silent as he could. He wasn’t entirely sure what was about to happen, but he knew it wasn’t good.

 **“How about . . . you,”** it says, picking up one of the men. It takes a few seconds to appraise him before holding him up above its mouth and opening its jaws wide.

Peter immediately panics, shooting a web at the man in the air, knocking him out of the monster’s grip.

Its head turns to him, an almost amused expression on its face. **“Spiderling,”** it starts, straightening its shoulders and walking a little closer to him. **“It is not nice to interrupt someone’s dinner.”**

Peter gulps, because he just realized how big the thing was, and he was pretty sure it could squash him like a bug. (Ha ha Peter, very funny)

“Um . . . W-well, eating people is wrong,” he says, as confidently as he can. “And, uh, it’s Spider-Man.”

The thing chuckles. **“We know, little Spiderling.”**

“Wait, ‘we’? Is there someone in there with you?” He gasps, horror overtaking his overactive imagination. “You’re not some kinda Xenomorph are you?! Please don’t lay your eggs in my chest, I don’t wanna die!”

It pauses, an almost confused expression on its face. **“What is a Xenomorph?”** it asks, though it doesn’t seem to be talking to Peter.

A few seconds pass before the thing gets a horrified expression on its face. **“Is that all you see us as?”** it asks, sounding offended.

Peter opens his mouth to say something, but is cut off when it starts talking again.

**“My species does not reproduce sexually . . . It would be very difficult, considering none of us have bodies . . . Hosts are not the same . . . Because it does not work like that! . . .”**

“Um, excuse me,” Peter says, feeling vaguely less afraid. “Who are you talking to?”

It stops, eyes narrowed suspiciously. **“None of your business, Spiderling. Now, leave before we hurt you.”**

“Sorry, but I can’t let you do this,” he says, channeling what dwindling courage he had.

It pauses, a bemused look of indulgence on its face. **“Now, now, you don’t want to go against us. And we do not wish to hurt you, so we suggest you scram.”**

Peter gulps. He was going to die here, stopping this thing from eating bad guys. “Nope, it’s you who should get out.”

It gives him a look, and he’s pretty sure that if it had eyebrows, they would be raised. **“Hm,”** it hums, stepping a little closer.

Peter freezes, standing stock still as it stops about a yard in front of him. It stoops down, head now level with his face.

 **“As you wish, little Spiderling.”** it says, its already horrifying toothy grin widening. **“We will not do anything . . . tonight.”**

It’s a far cry from anything remotely comforting, but the next second it licks his face with an impossibly long tongue and jumps away.

“Oh, gross!” Peter exclaims, shaking his head. He turns back to the thing, which was still pretty close. “Wait!” he calls out before it gets too far. “What are you?”

It turns to look at him, bemused indulgence on its face. **“We are Venom!”** it exclaims before leaping away, laughing to itself.

Peter just stands there, alien saliva on his cheek, and a feeling that whatever ‘Venom’ was, it wouldn’t let things slide next time.

**. . .**

They were perched on a rooftop, a good distance from the bridge, though it was still in sight. Peter had called the cops after webbing the bad guys together, before taking his leave. He still seemed pretty shaken after their encounter, but Eddie was just glad no one had gotten hurt.

 **“It is too bad, we are still hungry,”** Venom grumbles.

_Yeah, well, you’re the one who wanted to meet Spider-Man. You should’ve been ready for this._

**“We were not expecting him to be so . . . _moral_.” **They say the word like it’s a bad thing.

_Yeah, well, it’s not my fault he was raised right._

Venom scoffs. **“You petty humans and your values. We do not understand them.”**

_And you don’t have to, V. Just accept the fact that they exist.”_

**“We will consider it.”**

They stay there for a while longer, comfortable silence settling over them.

It’s finally broken when Eddie asks: _Hey, do you know how Spidey knew where we were? Did he overhear us at the Bugle or something, ‘cause I’m a little confused._

Venom doesn’t respond immediately, something like embarrassment coming over their bond.

_V, what did you do?_

**“ _We_ did not do anything,” **they say cryptically.

_The Hell you didn’t, spit it out._

**“Before we left the Bugle, we may or may not have noticed that Peter put a tracker on us.”**

Eddie sighs, something he feels deep in his soul. _You are so very lucky no one got hurt, or we would be having a_ very _different conversation right now. In the future, I’d like to know about stuff like that, m’kay, V. What if it hadn’t been Spidey, but some goons from the Life Foundation? We’d probably be in some creepy lab with guys in white coats poking and prodding us._

Venom shudders, unhappy memories flashing through their mind. **“We understand. We will be more careful.”**

_Thanks. Because, trust me, I don’t want that any more than you do._

**“We know. Now, about dinner . . .”**

**. . .**

Later that night after Peter finally gets back home, he has time to think about what happened. Specifically, he can marvel over the fact that he’d escaped that thing without a single scratch.

He knew it was likely pretty strong, given the way it took out all those guys pretty quickly, and could easily defeat him, spider strength or no. So, Peter was left feeling very confused.

Not that he wasn’t grateful, he’d take nothing over being eaten by whatever that thing was.

Deciding that he should probably try and sleep considering how late it was, Peter changes into some pajamas and crawls into bed.

It wasn’t until thirty minutes later, sleep still evading him, that he realizes two things. One, he hadn’t seen Eddie Brock anywhere the entire time everything was going down. And two, his spidey sense hadn’t gone off, despite the obviously dangerous creature that he’d been up against.

**. . .**

Mary was worried sick. She’d gotten home a little earlier than expected, and had been more or less looking forward to seeing her freeloader brother, before she realized he wasn’t there. A quick check to her recent texts revealed that he’d gone sightseeing and was stopping by the Daily Bugle (“Idiot,” she’d muttered) to see if they would let him do a story for some money.

While it was pretty late, it was still early enough for her not to worry. But then the hours ticked by, and it was midnight. Still no sign of Eddie. She’d been texting him on and off since she’d gotten home, and there still wasn’t a response.

At this point, Mary was seriously considering calling the cops, when she heard a key in the door.

Off her couch in a flash, she reaches the door just as Eddie walked in.

“ . . . quiet, V,” he was muttering to himself. “Don’t wanna wake her up.”

“Too late,” Mary declares, her hands on her hips and a disproving look on her face.

“Mary!” Eddie says, surprised. “What are you doing?”

“Worrying about you, dufus,” she says, punching his arm. “I was worried, it’s almost midnight, where were you?”

“Oh, uh . . .” he trails off, scratching the back of his head uncomfortably. “Meeting with someone about my story for the Bugle. I didn’t realize it was so late.”

Mary rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m just glad you’re okay. You hungry?”

A look of disgust briefly crosses Eddies face before he shakes his head. “No, I, uh . . . already ate.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself. At least now I can get some sleep knowing you aren’t bleeding out in a gutter somewhere.”

“Thanks, I think?”

“You’re welcome. And you should get some too, you look like Death warmed over.”

“Yeah, I’ll get on that.”

“You better, or I won’t let you do anything fun tomorrow. We’ll stay here all day, watching re-runs on my crappy T.V.”

“Oh, the horror,” Eddie says sarcastically, holding a hand over his heart.

“Exactly. ‘Night,” Mary says, walking to her bedroom.”

“ ‘Night,” Eddie replies, crashing on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, canonically (in the comics at least) Peter's Spidey Sense doesn't go off around Venom, so I'm using that to my advantage. And Mary's back because writing her is fun. (Mostly because we never really get to see her anywhere else, so I basically have creative freedom to do whatever the Hell I want). Hope you liked the chapter!


	4. Eddie is Confused and Venom is Pushy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to get this out, but this chapter just really didn't wanna be written. (That or I wasn't really in a 'writing' mood, but who's to say). Anyways, hope you like it, enjoy what's basically 1,000 words of Eddie and Venom bantering (with a bit of Mary and Peter sprinkled in).

Eddie sighs in frustration, closing his laptop and leaning back, holding his arm over his eyes.

**Having trouble?**

“You know I am, asshole. And it’s _your_ fault.”

 **What do you mean?** Venom asks, feigning innocence.

“Ah, can it. If you hadn’t gone in all guns blazing, I’d’ve gotten to interview some of those guys.”

**Blame the Spiderling. We were going to let you talk to the ones we did not eat, but he interrupted.**

“V, I know you don’t wanna hear this, but some things are more important than food. Like money, so we can eat stuff like chocolate and tater tots.”

Venom grumbles discontentedly, having no better response.

“That’s what I thought. Now, either I need a new story, or we’ve gotta figure out a way to salvage this one.”

**Hm, we don’t really want to go looking for a new story.**

“Okay then. Any ideas?”

**No, but we will think about it.**

“You get right on that, V,” Eddie says offhandedly, not really expecting anything.

A few fruitless minutes later, Venom finally asks, **Do you not have any contacts around here? Surely not all of them hate you.**

“Eh, I didn’t keep in touch with them.”

**Why not?**

“Didn’t have a reason. I left, so I didn’t need anything on New York anymore.”

**There has to be someone.**

“Hm . . . well there’s one, but I don’t even know if he’s here right now. And this seems pretty low level for him, so I doubt he’d have anything useful.”

**So we are back at square one?**

“Yep.”

Venom groans and Eddie feels them swirling around his chest, which only happened when they were feeling particularly disgruntled.

“Look, why don’t I just find another story. This is New York, there’s things happening every second.”

**No. Don’t feel like moving.**

“V, we’ve gotta get up eventually.”

**We know.**

Eddie sighs. There wasn’t really any point in arguing, so he just lay back and let his mind drift.

When noon finally rolled around, Mary emerged from her bedroom.

“Where were you? It’s late,” Eddie says, glancing up at her.

“Enjoying my free time, it is the weekend after all,” she replies, opening her fridge. “You want anything for lunch?”

**Tater tots.**

“No, V. We need real food.”

“Real food?” Mary says dubiously, eyeing what she had. “I dunno if I got that, but I do have some microwave lasagna.”

“That’s fine, we’re not really hungry anyways.”

She gives him an odd look before shaking her head and taking out the packages, putting one in the microwave.

“Thanks,” Eddie says as Mary sits down on the other side of the couch

“That one’s mine, dude. You want food, microwave it yourself.”

“Pleeease,” Eddie says, vying for her attention.

She steadfastly ignores him, turning on the TV and opening Netflix.

**We can get it Eddie.**

“No, she could see you.”

“See what?” Mary asks, not looking up.

“Nothing!” he says quickly.

She glances at him and raises an eyebrow. “Eddie, I know I don’t tell you this enough, but you’re an awful liar.”

“Whaaat?” Eddie says, “I am a . . . _great_ liar.”

“Whatever you say,” she mutters, rolling her eyes.

A few minutes later, the timer dings and Mary gets up.

“Oh, good God,” she mutters. “I can’t believe they’re at it again.”

“What?”

“The Daily Bugle, they’re badmouthing Spider-Man again.”

“Yeah, I think I heard something about it. J. Jonah Jameson doesn’t like him much, apparently.”

“I don’t get why, he’s just trying to help.”

“Eh, I dunno. Just one of those things.”

“Still sucks,” she says, sitting back down on the couch, lasagna and newspaper in hand.

Eddie nods in agreement with her. It was pretty sad, considering Spider-Man seemed like a nice kid.

**We could change that.**

“Change what?”

**The Daily Bugle’s projection of him.**

He glances at Mary, who was pointedly ignoring him.

“Look, V,” he mutters, getting off the couch and walking to the kitchen, where his phone was plugged in, “we really shouldn’t do this in front of Mary. She already thinks I’m crazy enough as is.”

**But we need to talk, I have an idea about your story.**

“Which is why I’m doing this,” Eddie whispers, picking up his phone. “Hey, Victor, how’s it goin’ man, it’s been so long.”

**Eddie, what are you doing?**

“Just play along,” he hisses. “Yeah, you know, this and that. So, why’re you calling? Somethin’ goin’ on?”

**Um . . . how about in your article, you frame the Spiderling in a positive light. Opposite of the Bugle’s usual portrayal.**

“Really? I mean, that’s a . . . semi-decent idea, I guess. But you do know who we’re presenting this to, right? Do you really think they’ll take it?”

**All we can do is try. No such thing as can’t, remember.**

“Hey, what have I said about using the things I say against me.”

**Not to.**

“Exactly. Now, you have an interesting idea, but how am I supposed to write it? ‘Spider-Man Stops Arms Deal Under Williamsburg Bridge’, big whoop.”

**Interview him, we do have his number.**

“No we . . . oh, yeah, forgot about that. That still makes for a pretty boring interview. Unless . . .”

**We ask about us. He already knows we were there, so we just ask him about ‘Venom’ and how he heroically took us down.**

“V, I cannot tell you how spectacularly horrible that idea is. Wait, let me try. That is the literal worst thing you could’ve said, nothing tops it. We _can’t_ do that.”

**I thought there was no such thing—**

“Don’t even think about saying it, we just went over this.”

**It is the best idea you have.**

“No, the better option is finding a new story.”

**We want to do a story on the Spiderling.**

“No, _you_ want to do a story on him. I’m staying out of this.”

**It will be fun. We can also see how much he knows about us. Gather intel.**

“That’s . . . actually not that bad an idea. Fine. I’ll go along with this, but only because you screwed up last night and now we need to see if he’s found out anything, or told the Avengers something.”

**Great. We should call him soon.**

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just let me get the article lined out, then we can prepare interview questions.”

**We can help with that.**

“Sure, V. Whatever you want. I’ll talk to you later, bye,” Eddie says, taking his phone away from his ear.

“You and your friend have a nice chat?” Mary asks, pausing her show and turning to look at him.

“Yeah, we were just talking about the story I’m workin' on for the Bugle.”

“Uh-huh. Didn’t know you knew a guy named ‘Victor’.”

“Yeah, he’s a friend from San Francisco.”

“He here now? In New York?”

“Nah, he’s just giving me some advice.”

“Really? ‘Cause I noticed you using a lot of ‘we’s’. As in the both of you.”

“Uh . . .”

“Listen, Eddie, what’s goin’ on? I’m not as dumb as you seem to think I am, somethin’s up.”

“It’s just really hard to explain—”

“Doesn’t seem that hard to me, just say it.”

“It’s a long story . . .”

“I’ve got time.”

“I just . . . look, I can tell you later, but right now I’ve gotta work on my article, okay?”

Mary narrows her eyes. “Fine. But I will make you keep that promise. I’m just worried about you, Eddie. I mean, I hear nothing from you for _years_ , and suddenly you want a vacation after some evil company did . . . something to you. You haven’t even told me about that yet.”

“I know, and I will tell you. Later. I just really need to finish this right now.”

She sighs. “Yeah, yeah. But tomorrow, you’re gonna let me in on whatever’s goin’ on with you.”

“Yep. Tomorrow.”

“And no skipping out.”

“What, I wouldn’t do that.”

She gives him a look before rolling her eyes and going back to her show.

**Looks like the Klyntar is out of the bag.**

“Not yet, she—wait, what did you say?”

**Klyntar. In reference to us, playing on the usual saying about cats.**

“Oh. I didn’t . . . okay then.” Eddie shakes his head and grabs his laptop. He didn’t really feel like being with Mary right now, so it was time to go mooch off the Wi-Fi of whatever coffee place caught his eye.

 **We don’t like coffee,** Venom grumbles.

“Yeah, well, tough luck,” Eddie says, opening the door and walking out.

**. . .**

Peter Parker was having a good day. This wasn’t entirely uncommon, considering his after-school activities, but he still appreciated them.

It had been a pretty easy day, not much crime to speak of. This would usually have disappointed him, but right now Peter was just glad for the chance to take a breather. He had a lot of homework to do tonight, so the faster his patrol was over, the better.

He was about ready to start swinging home, hopeful that the mostly non-existent crime that day would hold, when Karen told him someone was calling.

“Who is it?”

“It is an unknown number, but I can trace the person behind it if you want.”

“Um, sure.”

“Okay. Tracing, tracing . . . the number belongs to one Eddie Brock, former journalist and star of _The Brock Report_ in San Francisco. You interacted with him a few days ago and rescued him from a rooftop. Would you like to accept the call?”

“Sure, why not.” Karen lets the call go through and Peter says, “Hello?”

 _“Uh, hey, Spider-Man?”_ Eddie asks.

“You got him, what’s up?”

_“Yeah, it’s, um, Eddie Brock. You saved me from a rooftop a few days ago.”_

“I remember. So, what do you need? Not stuck on another roof, I hope.”

_“Nah, me ‘nd my s/o got everything sorted out—Shh, I’m getting to that.”_

The last part wasn’t said to him, Peter was sure of that. He was pretty sure he’d heard Eddie talking to himself on that rooftop, and even in the Bugle, so he wasn’t that surprised. Heck, he wasn’t the first person he’d come across that talked to themselves.

 _“Anyways,”_ Eddie continues, _“We were wondering if you would do an interview with us. I’m a journalist, and I'm doing a freelance story about those guys you took down last night under the Williamsburg Bridge.”_

Well, that was very unexpected.

“Um, you want to interview me?” Peter wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be flattered or against the idea entirely. But if Eddie really had been there, maybe he could shed some light on that ‘Venom’ character.

_“Yeah, nothing big, just to kinda fill in some holes in the story. Get your side of how things went down.”_

“I’ll agree on one condition.”

_“What?”_

“That I get to ask you some questions too.”

There’s a long silence, only marginally broken by muffled conversation on the other end of the line.

Eventually, Eddie says, _“Deal. Any particular place you wanna meet up, or is anywhere good for you?”_

“Uh . . . anywhere, I guess.”

_“Great, I’ll text you the address. Bye, Spidey.”_

Peter blinks, a little thrown by the nickname. “Yeah, goodbye.”

The call hangs up and he just sits there for a few seconds, unsure what he’d just gotten himself into. Karen notifies him of a text a minute-ish later and it’s from Eddie, listing the address of some coffee place in Manhattan.

Deciding that in the long run, this was probably gonna be the only lead he’d get on Venom, Peter takes a deep breath and leaps off the building.


	5. Venom and Spidey Interrogate Each Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, yay! Also, any and all journalism and science talk in this is mostly bullshit jargon that I heard in school, and a few quick Google searches. So, business as usual, I guess. Hope you like it!

While they were waiting for Spider-Man to arrive, Eddie was panicking. What if Peter figured out _they_ were Venom? What if he asked questions they couldn’t answer? What if he _already_ knew who they were and was coming to capture them? What if, what if, what if.

**Shut up your thoughts. You are worrying over nothing.**

“I’ll have you know, my thoughts are very founded, and I have every reason to worry. How you managed to talk me into this, I still don't know.”

**We can be very persuasive.**

“Tch, yeah right.”

**You are here now, are you not?**

“Touchè.”

A few minutes later, Spider-Man walks in. Well, at least he's pretty sure it's him, given the suit he was wearing. Although he did seem pretty lost, so Eddie waves a hand to get his attention. Peter seemed startled for a moment before walking over to their table and sitting across from them.

“Uh, hey,” Eddie says, lamely. “You find the place alright?”

“Yeah, it wasn't that hard,” Spider-Man responds, sounding even more awkward than he did, if such a thing were possible.

“That's good,” he says, nodding and averting his gaze. There's a silence for a few seconds before Eddie asks, “So, why doesn't anyone recognize you? I thought you were a pretty big deal around here.”

“Eh, depends who you ask. They probably just think I'm a fan or something. Spider-Man doesn't really stop at coffee shops.”

“We can go somewhere else if you want.”

“No, this is fine. But, uh, you mentioned an interview?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.”

“It's fine. I've never done this before, so I don't really know what to do.”

**You do not either, it seems. Forgetting something, Eddie?**

“Aw, shit, yeah,” Eddie mutters, taking out his recorder. It was one of the older ones, both of them still not really trusting newer tech. He chuckles nervously. “Yeah, it’s been kinda a while since I've done this, so don't get your hopes up.”

“I don't mind. Should be like riding a bike, right?”

“Let's hope.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, first question. Why were you there last night?”

There's a pause and Spider-Man’s eye-lens-things widen and he shifts in his seat. “Uh, well, because you were there, actually.” He says it sheepishly, like he was embarrassed. Or covering something up.

Eddie nods, keeping his face impassive. “How did you know I was there?”

“Oh, you know . . . Spider-Man . . . stuff. Just happened to be in the area . . .” he trails off, chuckling nervously.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “You sure about that? Final answer?”

“Yes?” he says, uncertainly.

Eddie gives him a look and he caves.

“Okay, no. I put a tracker on you because I heard where you were going and didn't want you to get hurt.” Peter looks away, probably feeling ashamed.

“Don’t worry about it, kid, we already knew.”

“You did?” he asks, looking at them, his eye-lens-things wide.

“Yeah. Try and be a little more discreet next time.”

“Uh, yes sir.”

Eddie nods, looking down at his notes.

“You're not mad?”

It's about the last thing he expects to hear, so it leaves him at a loss for words. Eventually, he says, “Nah, we're not mad. You were just trying to do the right thing. But be careful in the future, some people aren't as forgiving.”

**We will not let anyone harm the Spiderling.**

“I know, love, I know,” Eddie mutters, writing random words in his notebook to look more productive.

“What was that?” Peter asks, startling him.

“Uh . . . sorry, I thought you said something.”

The eye-lens-things get smaller, making him look almost suspicious. Probably at them, shit.

Eddie clears his throat. “Uh, anyways, question two. What do you know about those guys you took down?”

“Well, I technically didn't—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head. “Um, well, I don't know anything about them. I was just there ‘cause you were. What do _you_ know about them?”

Now it was Eddie's turn to act suspicious. “Oh . . . not much either, I guess. I just . . . got wind of it from some contacts and thought I'd check it out. I was gonna try and listen in on whatever was goin’ down, maybe talk to one of them, before—” Eddie stops, not entirely sure how to breach the next subject.

Peter shifts in his seat, obviously thinking something similar.

Eddie sighs. “Look, we may as well just stop ignoring the elephant—”

**Klyntar.**

“—in the room here. We both saw . . . whatever that was. Question is, what do you know about it?”

Spider-Man pauses. “Well . . . I have a few theories, but nothing concrete. Do you have any idea what it was?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nope. First time I’ve seen it, so I’m just as lost as you. But I am curious, what theories do you have?”

Peter glances around the cafè, as though looking for anyone listening in. “I’m still not entirely sure about anything, but I think it’s some sort of symbiotic creature.”

Eddie’s blood freezes, and Venom was, for once, silent. “Oh really?” he asks, his voice pitched a little higher than normal. “What, uh . . . what do you mean by that?”

“There’s three kinds of symbiotic relationships, mutualism, commensalism, and parasitism—”

 **Not a parasite,** Venom grumbles discontentedly.

“—and I think it’s one of those. It was talking to itself, and unless it’s hitched a ride with some other sentient being, it’s bonded with some kinda human host or vessel. I also noticed when it went against those thugs that it could grow extra limbs or something, and its skin didn’t really seem all that solid, more like some kinda non-newtonian substance.” He chuckles nervously. “But, uh, that’s just my take on it. My very nerdy, scientific take.”

Eddie and Venom just sit there, shellshocked. They hoped it didn’t show, because they were scared out of their mind.

 **He knows,** Venom says, in a tone of frightened reverence.

Eddie clears his throat and shakes his head, trying to get his bearings. “That’s, um . . . very detailed. You sure this is the first time you’ve heard of it?”

“Well, I did do some research to see if anything similar had been spotted. There wasn’t much, but I did find some tabloids talking about something like it, but it was in California. Gave it some weird name, The Demon of San Francisco, I think.”

**Told you we should've eaten those bloggers.**

“Didn’t think anything would come of it,” Eddie mutters. “Any ideas as to why it would be here?”

Peter shrugs. “Nope. I just hope I don’t run into it again. Pretty sure it wouldn’t take too kindly to me interrupting it’s ‘dinner’ a second time.” He shudders.

 **We would not hurt the Spiderling.** Venom sounds almost offended. **We would not appreciate his barging in, but we do not hurt children.**

“I know, V. So proud of you,” Eddie murmurs offhandedly. “You haven’t told anyone else about this, have you?”

Spider-Man shakes his head. “I don’t really have anyone to tell, and I’m not sure they would even believe me.”

“Not even the Avengers?” Eddie asks tentatively.

Peter glances away. “I’m not really in contact with them. ‘Sides, they just think I’m just a kid who can’t handle himself, so if I can do something about this ‘Venom’ character, they might change that.”

“Aren’t you though?” Eddie says before he can stop himself. “Just a kid, I mean.”

Spider-Man sits straighter in his seat, probably to make himself more intimidating or something, which was laughable. “I’m not that young,” he says, his voice also deeper.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Whatever you say, kid. But do you really think you could take this thing down? It seemed pretty scary, and I wasn’t even right in front of it.”

“Yeah . . . I'm not really sure, honestly. I think I'll just leave it be. It could probably kill me easily.”

“You might wanna stay away. I’m gonna be laying low for a while, just in case it knows I was there and wants to go after me or somethin’.”

“Sounds like a plan. I just hope it doesn't have some kinda grudge against me, or I'm really in trouble.”

**Hm, not really. We still got our dinner, regardless of his interruption.**

“I'm pretty sure you don't have to worry,” Eddie says. “Anyways, that's all the questions I have, so unless you wanna ask me something, I'd say we're done.”

Peter pauses. “Not really. Although, why are you in New York? I thought you lived in San Francisco.”

“Oh, I do. I just thought I should take a vacation and see my sister. We hadn't caught up in a while.”

“Family is important,” Spider-Man says, nodding sagely.

“Most of the time,” Eddie says, thinking of his father. “But I do think that wraps everything up.” He grabs his recorder and stands up. Peter follows suit and they shake hands. “Nice meeting you, Spider-Kid.”

“Still not that young,” he responds, obviously offended.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Run along now and go stop some criminals or something.”

“Yes sir,” Peter says, saluting him before walking away.

Eddie sits back down, mulling over the conversation. “We're so screwed.”

**I do not think he knew who we were. He is just very intuitive about us and our species.**

“Exactly, we're screwed. He'll find out eventually.”

**Will he? If we do not run into him again, it should not be a problem.**

“With our luck? I don't think so. The other shoe's gonna drop, and we gotta be ready for it.”

**Pessimist. Have some faith.**

“Faith has gotten me exactly nowhere these past few years, so I doubt it'll help me now. We just need to keep a low profile until we get back to San Francisco.”

 **Pussy. What if we** **_want_ ** **to talk to the Spiderling again?**

“Then I'd say you're an idiot, and trying to get us killed.”

**Would never hurt you, Eddie.**

“I know, but we _can’t_ meet with him again. We freaked the poor kid out last time, and he thinks he'd have to fight you or something if we meet again.”

 **We know,** Venom says, sounding disappointed. **But we do need to go out soon.**

Eddie sighs. “We already did that, V.”

**Not enough.**

“The Hell it wasn't! You're just trying to talk with him again, because you suddenly have a death wish or something.”

**No.**

“Don’t lie.”

**We are not. The one we had last night was not enough.**

“Bullshit.”

**Fine. See how well you are faring after we eat your pancreas.**

“You wouldn't.”

**Try us.**

“Okay, fine! Christ, what's gotten into you, V? Why this sudden fascination with the Spider-Kid?” There's a silence, and Eddie wonders if he said something that offended them.

Eventually, Venom says, **He is good. Like you want us to be, but better.**

Eddie isn't exactly sure what to say about that. He knew they were still getting a hang on this whole ‘good guy’ thing, but accidents happen. They couldn't always save everyone, and Venom still tried to eat the wrong people sometimes. It was a learning curve, and one he thought they'd been doing pretty good on.

“Look, V,” he starts, “Spider-Man’s not perfect either, no matter what anyone says. You've been doing really good, and I'm glad you want to be better, but nobody's perfect.”

**We know. But he is still . . . admirable.**

Eddie chuckles. “What, you think hangin’ around him will make some of his heroism rub off on you?”

**Perhaps. It is also funny how afraid he is of us.**

“Not sure that's something to be proud of, V.”

**Said it was funny. He is interesting.**

“I suppose you're right. Now, what do you say we finish up this article and see if JJJ won't take it.”

**Sounds like a plan.**

**. . .**

Peter was having a pretty weird day. First, he and Karen had a conversation about ‘Venom’ and what it could be. Then, he’d been interviewed by a reporter-turned-journalist who talked to himself constantly. And finally, it seemed that J. Jonah Jameson, famed Spider-Man hater, was about to let a story that _didn’t_ hate on Spider-Man be published in the Daily Bugle. If the conversation between him and Eddie Brock was anything to go off of.

Hell was freezing over, up was down, dogs and cats living together, mass hysteria. At least, that was how Peter was feeling when he watched Eddie walk out of J. Jonah’s office, a smug look on his face.

“Told you we could convince him,” he was saying under his breath. “Yeah, well, you’re not always right, m’kay.”

Peter once again thanked whoever was listening that his powers included super hearing. It really came in handy with eavesdropping on conversations.

“You still on about that?” Eddie continues, sounding exasperated. “I already told you—no, you don’t get any say in this . . . Why? Because I said so . . . I doubt ‘the Spiderling’ would really appreciate it . . . Y’know what, let's talk about this later . . . I am not stalling, how dare you—”

The rest of the conversation is cut off by the elevator, as Eddie got in and the doors closed.

Peter shakes his head. That guy was pretty weird. But he wasn’t really one to judge either, considering his late-night activities. At least he didn’t talk to himself.


	6. Seriously, WTF is Going on Right Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since my last update, but school just started and my writing motivation took a nosedive. I already kind of have the next chapter outlined, but I make no guarantees for when it'll be posted. The title of this chapter is brought to you courtesy of Mary and Peter's internal thoughts throughout this whole thing.

Mary wasn't expecting very much when she got up that morning. Silence, maybe, but apparently that wasn't meant to be. She listened for a few seconds to the sound of arguing. Her neighbors were at it again, weren’t they. She sighs. Oh well, not much she could do about it. Mary grabs her phone and looks at the time, 9:00.

“It’s way too early for this,” she mutters, getting up and walking out of her room.

When she reaches the hallway, the voices become clearer and she realizes they were coming from her kitchen.

“No, V, why would I put milk in the eggs?” she hears Eddie say.

‘V’? As in Victor, the guy who was supposedly in San Francisco? Mary pauses and listens to the conversation play out.

**“We already told you, it is what you are supposed to do,”** comes a much deeper, scarier voice. Damn, Victor sounded really sick. Or maybe his vocal cords were messed up.

“But why?!” Eddie says exasperatedly.

**“Because it makes them fluffier!”** ‘Victor’ exclaims.

“How does that work?”

**“We do not know, we just know it works . . . Just a little, not the whole gallon!”**

“Yeah, well, you didn’t tell me how much!”

**“Use common sense, for once in your life!”**

“I do use common sense, it’s you who needs it!”

**“Well, we are not the one who just made** **_eggs_ ** **the wrong way.”**

“That’s your fault, you said to put milk in, so I did.”

**“We are not at fault here.** **_You_ ** **are the one who asked** **_us_ ** **for help with making breakfast because** **_you_ ** **do not know how.”**

“I . . .” Eddie starts, trailing off. “Yeah, well maybe I shouldn’t have asked my  _ parasite _ for help in the kitchen.”

There’s an offended gasp.  **“You take that back right now, or we will—”**

“Or you’ll what? Eat my liver? Y’know, you keep threatening that, but something tells me you wouldn't do it.”

Okay, what? Mary plays that back in her head . . . and yeah, her brother just casually mentioned that someone threatened to eat his liver. Multiple times, apparently. Needing to know who exactly this ‘Victor’ character was, she sneaks forward and peeks around the corner.

Eddie was in the kitchen, a plate of too-white eggs in a pan on the stove. This wasn’t all too surprising, considering what she’d overhard. But what really shocked Mary was that there was no one else in the room. Instead, there was a black, slimy, thing hovering over Eddie’s shoulder. 

She gasps involuntarily and Eddie turns to look at her, the thing over his shoulder doing the same. Her immediate thought is: Teeth! Big, sharp teeth!

They all stay still, shock keeping them frozen.

Eventually, Eddie says, “Hey, Mary. You’re awake.”

“What . . . is that?!” Mary says, her voice pitched higher than normal.

Eddie glares at the thing. The thing glares back and Eddie sighs. “That’s, uh . . . um . . .” he trails off awkwardly.

“Eddie,” Mary says carefully, “What. Is. That.”

He sighs, defeated. “Venom. This, is Venom.”

“What’s a Venom?” she asks, very scared and very confused.

“They’re, uh . . . my live-in roommate?” He glances at the thing and it nods.

**“Yes,”** it says, speaking in that deep, scary voice she’d heard before.  **“We are Venom, and your brother, Eddie, is our host.”**

Mary’s eyes widen and she feels about ready to faint. “Host?” she says weakly.

**“Yes. We cannot survive on this planet without a host to help us breathe. Your brother has graciously let us stay with him.”**

“This planet? What are you, some kinda alien?”

**“Yes.”**

Mary looks at Eddie, who was pointedly avoiding her gaze. “You’ve got a fuckin’  _ alien _ inside you and you didn't tell me?! The Hell’s up with that?!”

“I didn’t want you to freak out, like you are now,” Eddie says awkwardly.

“Yeah, well, you still should've  _ told _ me. Jesus Christ, Eddie. Is this why you’ve been talking to yourself? You’re actually talking to this thing?”

**“We are not a thing,”** Venom says, sounding offended.

Mary takes a deep breath. In four seconds, hold seven, out eight. “Okay,” she says, feeling slightly calmer. “This is just . . . not what I was expecting. Don't get me wrong, I’m glad you’re actually talking to someth—someone who’s real, but . . .” she trails off, not entirely sure how to finish the thought.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, scratching the back of his head. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“Ya think,” Mary says, pinching the bridge of her nose. Now that the initial shock had worn off and she was thinking more clearly, she wasn’t all that surprised. After everything with the Avengers and all the other crazy stories she’d heard, this was one of the more tame ones. She’d already been speculating about why Eddie was talking to himself, and while ‘alien’ hadn’t been on the list, it was better than most of the other things she’d been considering.

“So, uh,” Eddie starts awkwardly. “You good?”

Mary gives him an incredulous look. “Good? No, not really, but I’m not gonna kick you out or tell anyone if that’s what you’re asking.”

Eddie visibly relaxes, letting out a breath.

“Seriously? I’m not  _ that _ cold-hearted. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one hundred percent okay with this, but I’m not gonna do anything drastic. Just gimme a bit to adjust to all of . . . this,” she says, gesturing to Venom.

**“We understand.”**

Mary freezes up slightly. “Jesus Christ, dude,  _ what _ is up with your voice?”

Venom tilts their head a bit, an almost confused look on their face.  **“Nothing.”**

“You’ll get used to it,” Eddie says, and it honestly isn't that comforting.

“Okay, whatever. Just one question. You’re not gonna, like, kill me in my sleep or anything are you? Please tell me this isn’t one of those, ‘and now that you know my secret, I’m gonna kill you’ moments, ‘cause I don’t really feel like dying right now.”

Eddie looks borderline horrified, and Venom’s grin just gets bigger.

**“We would never hurt you, Mary,”** Venom says, sickly sweet. It really just makes her more unsettled.

“They mean no,” Eddie says, giving Venom a look. “We trust you. ‘Sides, V’s been wanting to meet you since we first got here, and now that you’ve been introduced, I don’t have to worry about them whining and complaining about it anymore.”

Mary nods, unsure how to feel about that. “Well, now that that’s over, how about I save breakfast, because the two of you are hopeless in the kitchen.”

Eddie looks like he wants to argue against that, and Venom just glares at him.

**“** **_We_ ** **are not hopeless, but your brother is.”**

“Whatever you say,” Mary says, shooing them out of the kitchen. “And while I make us some food, I wanna hear about how the two of you met, ‘cause I have a sneaking suspicion that it involves that Life Foundation story I’ve been dying to hear.”

**. . .**

Peter was honestly having a pretty bad day. Jameson had been hounding him again, and he'd run into Flash, which always made his mood worse. So, he was hoping for a relaxing patrol that night. Maybe stop a few late night criminals, stargaze a bit, stuff like that.

Which is probably why he didn't realize something was wrong until he was suddenly tackled onto an adjacent rooftop.

“What the—” he starts trying to get his bearings and escape the near-suffocating grip of whatever attacked him. It takes a few seconds to register the slimy looking black texture in front of him, and it really just makes his day that much worse. “Venom?!” he exclaims, wishing he'd never left his house that night.

**“Spiderling!”** Venom says, sounding almost exited.

Great, not only was it going to eat him, it was  _ looking forward  _ to eating him. “Venom,” he starts, struggling against its grip, “let me go!”

**“Why would we do that? You would just run away from us.”**

_ That's the point _ , Peter wants to yell. Instead, he opts for, “I won't run, I promise.” Maybe this thing would believe him and he could get away.

**“Hm,”** Venom hums thoughtfully.  **“No.”** It grabs onto the back of his suit and holds him out, like he was a kitten.  **“We do not trust you not to ‘book it’.”**

Peter continues struggling, feeling humiliated. “What do you want with me?” he asks, wanting whatever this was to be over.

Venom pauses.  **“We had not thought about that.”**

“So you're not gonna eat me?” he asks hopefully.

Venom’s grin widens.  **“We did not say that, little spiderling. After all, it is your fault we had a . . .** **_lacking_ ** **dinner the other day.”**

Peter gulps. “You really don't wanna eat me. I don't taste good, and I got all this electrical stuff in my suit that would taste pretty bad—”

He's cut off when Venom starts laughing.  **“We did think you would be a bit . . .** **_stringy_ ** **.”** It says the last word like it just made the greatest joke in the world.  **“Get it? Stringy, like your webs.”**

Peter chuckles nervously. What was his life now, that he had a monster joking around with him. Maybe it was just playing with its food, like a cat and mouse kinda thing.

**“Oh, but is that not the point,”** Venom murmurs to itself gleefully.  **“Nothing is wrong with us, you are just no fun.”**

Since it seemed preoccupied with something else, Peter says, “Karen, any suggestions on how to get out of this?” as quietly as he can. He usually tried not to rely on her too much, but this was definitely a time he didn't really care about that. Venom was strong, and while Peter was too, he had a sneaking suspicion that when it came down to seven-foot tall aliens vs Spider-Man, aliens would win, hands down.

“No,” Karen says, dashing Peter's hopes. “I do not know what ‘Venom’ is weak against, or if any of the web settings would be effective. You do not seem to be in imminent danger, so it would be best to remain still and hope it lets you go.”

“Great,” Peter mutters.

Venom was still talking to itself, something about stupid humans not letting it have any fun.

“Text message received from Aunt May,” Karen happily informs him. “Would you like to  read it?”

“Sure,” Peter says offhandedly. Venom was distracted, so maybe he could get away without it noticing. Although, the grip on his suit didn't feel any weaker, so maybe not.

“Peter,” Karen says loudly, trying to get his attention.

“What?”

“Your aunt texted you.”

“Oh, what did she say?”

The message appears and reads, ‘Hey, I was just wondering when you were getting home. It's pretty late and I'm starting to get worried.’

Peter groans. Ever since May found out he was Spider-Man, she got more worried about stuff like this. It was understandable, if a little annoying at times. At least she still let him go out instead of grounding him for forever.

“Text her back. Say, ‘I'm fine, just wrapping a few things up. Be home soon.’ ”

“Message sent.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Speaking of problems, it seemed Venom had stopped talking and was looking at him, an indecipherable look on its face.

Peter gulps as it starts bringing him closer, still not showing any kind of readable emotion. After a few seconds, it says,  **“Very well, little Spiderling. We will let you go . . . this time.”** It adds the last part as an afterthought, grinning the whole while. It seemed like it was a warning for him, but at the same time something infinitely more funny to Venom.

It lowers him to the ground before half-crouching in front of him and patting his head a few times, a little too hard for Peter's liking.

**“Run along now and go stop some criminals or something,”** Venom says, almost fondly. Like a mother talking to her young child. The next second, it's gone, jumping off the rooftop.

Peter just stands there, shellshocked. The only vaguely coherent thought running through his mind being the fact that the words Venom just said were the exact ones Eddie Brock said to him the other day after finishing the interview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, at this point, I should just call this a crack fic and get it over with. Anyways, I had way too much fun writing this, so I hope you liked reading it just as much.


	7. People are Scolded, and Offers are Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Gasp* A new chapter!

It takes Peter a few minutes to get over the initial shock, but Karen eventually pulls him out of it by politely reminding him that it was half-past ten and he should really get home. So, he tries pushing back the thoughts rushing through his head and leaps off the building. Unfortunately, his mind refused to stay quiet.

How hadn’t he realized sooner? Neither Eddie or Venom were being particularly subtle about anything, what with the talking to themselves and way they acted around him. It was so obvious, Peter was baffled he hadn’t at least entertained the thought.

When he first started trying to figure out Venom, it was like putting together one of those blank puzzles. He’d somehow managed to get the border done, but the rest was a mystery to him. Now, he sees that it had been more like a puzzle that declared ‘Eddie Brock is Venom’. He somehow subconsciously started putting it together, but when it came down to the last few pieces, he was stubbornly trying to fit the wrong ones in the wrong places. Then again, he’d never really liked puzzles.

Still, he had to wonder if Venom said those words on purpose. (He and Karen had gone over the footage for the interview that morning, so he was absolutely certain that they'd been the same words). Was it just teasing him, or something? Was it really gonna eat him? It seemed more it was toying with him for the fun of it.

Peter had heard of cats that played with small animals, but had no intention of eating them. The poor things usually died, either because they were so afraid, the cat hurt them, or some combination of the two. Maybe that's what Venom was doing? The question is, would he also end up like those unfortunate creatures.

Perhaps these were thoughts best left for morning, when he was better rested. Maybe he could even talk to Ned about this. Or the Avengers. He briefly entertains the thought as he sneaks through the window of his bedroom.

“Where have you been?” the stern voice of his aunt reached him on the roof, and he sees her sitting on his bed, arms crossed.

Peter quickly drops to the floor and pulls his mask off. “Hey, Aunt May. You're still awake.”

“Of course I am. I was worried about you.”

“Didn't you get my text? I said I was getting right home.”

“You mean the one you sent about thirty minutes ago? ‘I'm fine, just wrapping a few things up. Be home soon’.”

Thirty minutes ago? “That's not right,” Peter says, grabbing his phone from his desk. He looks at the clock, and lo and behold, it was 10:45. “Oh,” he says sheepishly. “I, uh . . . something just came up, y'know. Crime fighting and all that.”

May raises an eyebrow, obviously dubious about his weak excuse. “You need to be more careful.” She looks down and fiddle with her fingers. “I just . . . I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you.”

She sounds close to tears and Peter tenses. They'd had this same conversation when she first found out, and she still got worked up over it sometimes.

“Hey, it's fine,” he says, sitting down next to her. “I'm here now, and I'll try to be more careful about my curfew.”

“You say that every time.”

“I know. Tonight was just . . . weird.”

She turns to him, her eyes narrowed. “Weird how?”

“There’s this new guy running around, and he's kinda . . .”  _ Huge, terrifying, maybe trying to kill me. _ “scary.”

May looks about ready to nix his vigilantism, so he quickly backtracks.

“I mean he  _ looks _ scary. He's not a small guy, and he's got a lot of . . .”  _ Teeth! Big, sharp teeth _ ! “Tattoos.”

“What's he doing, and why haven't you caught him yet?”

“He’s, uh . . .”  _ Trying to eat people _ ! “Mugging people. He's also really fast, so he always gets away.”  _ And I'm much too scared to chase him _ .

May looks simultaneously dubious and relieved, like she knows he's lying, but wants to believe it at the same time, because the alternative is something much more frightening.

After a few seconds, she sighs. “Okay,” she says quietly, standing up. “Just be careful. Goodnight, I love you.”

“Love you too,” Peter says as she walks out of his room. He gets out of his Spidey suit and puts on a t-shirt before crashing on his bed, determined to forget Venom, at least until the morning.

**. . .**

It wasn't until a few minutes after they left Peter on that rooftop that Eddie stopped to think about the deliberateness of Venom's parting words.

_ Venom. _ He starts suspiciously.  _ What did you do? _

They pause, not moving from the rooftop they were currently on.  **“What do you mean?”** Venom asks, feigning innocence.

_ You know what I mean! Tell me you didn’t do that on purpose. _

**“Do what?”**

_ Gettin’ real tired of this innocent act, V. _

**“We may, or may not, have semi-purposefully, very carefully chosen our final words to the Spiderling. Maybe.”**

Eddie sighs, and he feels it deep in his soul.  _ Seriously? What if he makes the connection? _

**“He has not done so yet, so why would he now? What if he doesn’t remember?”**

_ What if he does? These are the kinda things you gotta think about, V. It’s called secret identity for a reason. _

**“We will be fine. Trust us.”**

_ Every time you say that, it’s because you’ve done something bad. Give me one reason. _

**“The Spiderling is small, and cannot hurt us. We are no match for him.”**

_ What if he tells the Avengers? _

**“If he was going to do that, he would have already. He said he wasn’t in contact with them much, remember.”**

_ Kids say a lot of things. Always take anything anyone says to you with a grain of salt. _

**“Even that piece of advice?”** Venom says smugly.

_ Jesus Christ. _ Eddie says exasperatedly.  _ Y’know what, I don’t care anymore. If anything happens and the Avengers come after us, I’m blaming you. _

**“We will be fine. There is no way he has figured it out. You were not exactly subtle during that interview.”**

_ If I ignored you, it would’ve been worse and you know it. _

**“Perhaps. But what is done is done, and I am about ready to get back. After we pick up a little . . . fast food.”**

Eddie pauses. _ I can’t tell if you’re being literal, or you’re trying to be funny. I’m not sure which is worse. _

**“We have decided that we like puns. And wordplay. They bring us joy.”**

_ Oh, God no. _ Eddie says, horrifying predictions flashing through his mind.  _ I swear, you’d better not bother me all day with that stuff, or I will never eat chocolate for the rest of my life. _

**“We were not planning on it, but now that you said something . . .”**

_ No chocolate. Forever. _

**“Fine. You are no fun.”**

_ Too bad, you’re stuck with me. Now, I dunno about you, but I’m ready to get back to Mary’s. _

**“Agreed,”** Venom says, starting back to her apartment.

**. . .**

J. Jonah Jameson sighs, running a hand over his face. While he usually liked his job, he didn’t particularly enjoy going over articles before they were published. It really brought out the incompetency in people.

Although there were some who were good about going over their grammar and spelling before turning things in, there were more who didn’t. He’d tried talking to them, but to no avail. Eventually, he just gave up. It wasn’t worth it.

So, he was pleasantly surprised by the article that Eddie Brock turned it. It was by no means the greatest thing he’d ever read, but it was pretty good for someone who probably hadn't wrote anything in a while. The interview was certainly appreciated, seeing as Spider-Man tended to avoid interacting with reporters. He’d have to ask how Brock got it.

And, honestly, at this point, he might as well just make a special Spider-Man corner since that’s all anyone wanted to write about. ‘Spider-Man did this, Spider-Man did that. He rescued some people from a burning building, blah, blah blah’.

James didn’t really like most heroes, but it was the webslinger he had the most problem with. Especially considering he was the only one who actively helped the common people. Police existed for a reason, and while they weren’t perfect, they didn’t need any help from a masked vigilante who answered to no one.

Still, everyone seemed enamored with him, and if it would sell more papers . . .

He sighs and, fighting every instinct in him, picks up the phone and dials Eddie Brock's number.

_ “Hello?” _

“Is this Eddie Brock?”

_ “Who’s askin’?” _

“J. Jonah Jameson, from the Daily Bugle. I want to talk about that article you wrote.”

_ “Ah, shit,” _ Eddie says quietly.  _ “What’s wrong with it?” _

“Oh, nothing’s wrong with it. I have a proposition for you.”

_ “What?” _ he asks, sounding suspicious.

“As you know, Spider-Man is a big staple of New York. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind writing for a Spider-Man specific corner in our newspaper.”

There’s a pause.

_ “Really? You, famed Spider-Man hater, ‘he’s a menace’ and all that, wants a corner specific to him?” _

James grunts. “Yeah, well, I’m not proud of it myself. But he does good things for this city, and while I still don’t like him, I can’t not acknowledge it. Plus, it’ll probably help sales.”

_ “Why me?” _

“You got an interview with him, something many of my journalists have been trying to do for a long while. He’s not really one to sit down and chat.”

_ “Really? All I did was call him, and he said yes.” _

“You have his number?”

_ “Uh . . . yeah. He helped me out recently, and said if anything like it ever happened again, just call him.” _

“Oh. Well, then that’s another reason, I guess. So, what do you say?”

_ “I’ll have to think about it. I’m only in New York to see my sister, so I’d need to talk to her about it.” _

“Well, whenever you get that sorted out, just call to say yes or no.”

_ “You got it. Thanks for the offer.” _

“It’s no problem,” he says, right before hanging up. James looks at the phone in his hands, and wonders if he just made the right choice. Oh well, it’s not like he could go back and change it. Resigning himself to his fate, he goes back to editing the articles on his computer.


	8. Discussions, Decisions, Determination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry it took so long for this chapter. I just haven't really had the motivation to work on it, but it's here now, so yay! Hope you like it.

“So,” Ned starts, glancing around the courtyard, “How’re things going with, uh . . . you-know-who.”

Peter scoffs and takes a bite of his sandwich. “I’m not Voldemort, dude. And things’re goin’ pretty good. Although . . .” He pauses, debating whether or not he should say anything.

“Although . . .” Ned says slowly.

Peter sighs. “I came across somethin’ a few nights ago and it’s, like, honestly the weirdest thing so far.”

“Really? What is it?”

“Not a clue. It calls itself Venom, it’s roughly seven feet tall, and has waaay too many teeth. And now that I think about it, its eyes look kinda similar to the lenses on my mask.”

“Sounds fun. What’s it doin’ to get on your radar?”

“Eating people, if you can believe it.”

Ned chokes on his water. “What?!”

“Or, well, attempting to. I came across it a few days ago, but I stopped it before anything happened.”

“That's, uh . . .” he trails off, not exactly sure what to says.

“I know, right? Honestly, at this point, I think I’ma just leave it be and hope it goes back to San Francisco soon.”

“ ‘Back to San Francisco’? What do you mean?”

“Well, Venom’s a kinda symbiotic organism, so it has to have a host to survive. I happen to know the host.”

“Really? Is it anyone I know?”

“Maybe. You heard of Eddie Brock?”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Well, that’s who it is. I actually just found out last night, when Venom cornered me.”

“Seriously? What did you do? Did you have to fight it? Did you win?”

“Um, I couldn’t really do anything. It’s, like, really strong. So, no, I didn’t fight it, and if I’d tried, I probably would’ve lost.”

“Oh,” Ned sounds a little deflated. “Well, how’d you figure it out?”

“He interviewed me as Spider-Man on Saturday. He and Venom gave me the same parting words, ‘Now run along now and go fight some criminals, or something’.”

“That’s . . .”

“Weird? Yeah, I know. The whole thing last night was weird. It felt sorta like a cat and mouse thing, Venom kept vaguely threatening me, and I couldn’t do anything about it. Scared doesn’t even begin to cover how I felt. Eventually, It just let me go.” Peter pauses. “Actually . . . I think Eddie might’ve convinced it.”

“Really? Why?”

“Well, Venom started talking to itself, or, well, Eddie, and then it let me go. It also really likes saying ‘we’ instead of ‘I’. Kinda like it considers them one, or something.”

“Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. D’you know if Eddie’s a willing participant, or just the poor schmuck that Venom latched onto.”

“I think he’s willing. Whenever Venom talks to him, I can only hear one side of the conversation, but it’s mostly just banter. There’s a few threats on Venom’s side, but they seem more idle than anything.”

“Hm. Well, you should probably still check. ‘Sides, it’s probably not good to let whatever Venom is to run around terrorizing New York.”

“True. Maybe if I try and appeal to Eddie’s human side, I can get them to stop.”

“Worth a shot.”

“And it’s also the only way I’ve got a chance of getting out alive.”

Ned nods in agreement. “Just be careful, dude.”

Peter grins. “When am I ever not?”

Ned rolls his eyes, choosing not to answer that.

**. . .**

“For the last time, V, the answer’s no,” Eddie says exasperatedly.

**“Why? There is no reason to say that.”**

“I have every reason! We can’t stay here, New York’s too dangerous.”

**“And San Francisco isn’t? Everywhere we go could be dangerous.”**

“You know what I mean.” He starts pacing from the kitchen to the living room, pointedly not looking  at Venom.

**“We get where you are coming from, but this is the first job offer you’ve gotten, and given your . . . interesting career in journalism, it might be the only one you will get.”**

“That’s  . . . a decent point, but, again, we can’t stay here.”

**“You are the one who was waxing poetic about how much we need money just a few days ago, and now you are going to turn down the only job you have been offered? And you call** **_us_ ** **dense.”**

“Okay, then give me _one_ good reason, other than the whole job thing.”

**“The rent is up on your apartment. You said you were going to look for a new place while we were here, but it seems to have slipped your mind.”**

“Ah, shit,” Eddie mutters, stopping his pacing and crashing on the couch..

**“Why do you even want to go back to San Francisco?”**

Eddie pauses. He honestly wasn't sure anymore. Sentiment, maybe? Annie was there, and even though they weren't together anymore, she was still a good friend. And Dan was a pretty okay guy too.

**“Mary is here, and you said you wanted to reconnect with her. You humans are always going on about how important family is, are you not?”**

“Well, yeah, but . . . we can't keep staying here for free.”

**“You will presumably get money from the job, correct?”**

“I guess.”

**“Then why are you still arguing? We have clearly won the debate.”**

“Look, V . . . you're right, okay. I just need some time to think it over. Preferably after doing a lot of procrastinating via Netflix, or something.”

Venom's eyes narrow. **“Fine. But we get to pick what to watch.”**

Eddie groans. “Lemme guess, Friends?”

**“No need to sound so averse, we know you like it too.”**

“Well, yeah, but I could do without your . . . _interesting_ commentary.”

**“You love our ‘commentary’, loathe as you may be to admit it.”**

“I really don't, V.”

**“Keep telling yourself that. And you** **_will_ ** **accept that job from the Daily Bugle, or we will do it ourself.”**

Eddie rolls his eyes and opens Netflix.

**. . .**

It was after school, and Peter was out patrolling his usual route. It had been relatively calm, but it was still early, so he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it would seem that today it would come in the form of a seemingly innocuous phone call.

“Eddie Brock is calling you,” Karen informs him cheerfully. “Would you like to accept?”

“Uh . . .” he starts, equal parts stunned and afraid. Why was he calling? Did he know that Peter knew about Venom? If he did know, what would he do about it? “Yeah, I’ll take the call,” he says, fighting every instinct in him.

_“Hello?”_

“Hey, Eddie. How’re you?” Peter asks, doing his very best to act as nonchalant as possible.

_“Oh, y’know, ain’t nothin’ changed but the weather. You?”_

“Eh, same I guess. Why’re you calling?”

_“I need to talk to you about somethin’. I’d rather not do it over the phone though, if that’s okay with you.”_

“That’s . . . fine,” Peter chokes out, a pit forming in his stomach.

_“Great! If you could meet us at Great Hill in Central Park, near west 106th street at about . . . let’s say 5:00-ish, that’d be perfect.”_

“Uh, sure. See you then.”

_“Yep. Bye Spidey.”_

“Bye.”

The call ends and Peter just sits there. What in the name of anything was he doing? A meeting in Central Park at about 5:00-ish? You wanna get murdered, ‘cause that’s how you get murdered. Especially if you know the person (people?) you’re meeting have expressed the desire to _eat you_. Gosh, he was so dumb.

“Karen, what time is it?”

“4:37.”

Well, at least that gave him some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and just so you know, I finally got myself a tumblr account! I know things have been pretty hectic since the Purge, but if you wanna, you can find me at azaria-serpens over there. I don't really take fic requests, but I'd be happy to talk about head cannons, or any questions you may have on one of my stories. (Although, if you do have any requests, I'd be glad to hear them, I just can't say if I'd actually get around to writing it anytime soon)


	9. Friendly Neighborhood Freeloader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, a new chapter? It's a miracle! (No, really, it's a miracle I managed to finish this thing). Anyways, hope you like it!

“Hey, Karen, we have night vision in this thing, right?”

“Correct. Would you like me to turn it on?”

“Uh, no, thank you. I just wanted to know.” It was starting to get dark, and if Eddie didn’t show up soon then he was seriously considering leaving.

“Hey! What are you doing up there?” a familiar voice calls out.

Peter jumps, startled, and starts slipping off the tree branch he’d been crouched on. “Aahh!” he exclaims, quickly sticking one of his hands to it before he hit the ground. “Eddie?!” he says, recognizing the person looking at him. “Don’t sneak up on people like that!”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, not really sounding that apologetic. “You gonna come down, or are you a tree dweller now?”

Peter glances at the ground and sees his feet aren’t that far, so he lets go and drops down. “ ‘M not a tree dweller,” he mutters defensively.

“Hey, I don’t judge,” Eddie says, holding his hands up. “Why were you up there anyway?”

“Keeping a lookout, watching for you. Figured the high ground was best, and there’s not that many tall places here.”

“Okay, Obi-wan. Hope I didn’t take you too far outta your element.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” And he would be, so long as he stuck to the escape plan he’d made up before he got to Central Park. Just in case. “So, what’d you wanna talk about?”

“Well, we have a proposition for you.”

Peter is immediately suspicious, in part because of the wording, and also because of the pronouns, and shifts into a more battle-ready stance. “Proposition for what?”

“The Daily Bugle offered us a job to write for them, but it would be a more you-centric column. It’s the first offer we’ve gotten since San Francisco, so I’m seriously considering taking it. But, ol’ JJJ said he was mostly just asking because we managed to get an interview with the ever-elusive Spider-Man, so we were wondering if you’d be up to doing that again every once in a while.”

“Really? That’s it?” Whatever he’d been expecting, it sure wasn’t that.

“Yep. It wouldn’t even need to be that often, you’re probably pretty busy, so just enough to keep everyone happy.”

“What would I get out of this?” Now that Peter was more-or-less sure this wasn’t about Venom, he felt pretty confident in negotiating with Eddie.

“Better publicity, I guess? I know the Bugle isn’t exactly your biggest fan, and this certainly won’t be front page or anything, but it’s something.”

Peter nods, feigning interest. “What if I don’t want any better publicity? Most of New York already likes me.” He was fishing, but it was pretty true. And maybe he could get  _ something _ from this, especially if he would be using up his oh so valuable time.

Eddie narrows his eyes. “Bullshit. Most of the city is indifferent with not-negative feelings for you, and this might give you a little popularity boost.”

“That’s . . . probably true,” Peter says. “But, my reputation is getting better, even without your help.”

“Doesn’t hurt to have more. You’d also be helping a poor journalist not have to keep mooching off his dear sister, who is probably considering charging rent if he starts sticking around any longer.”

“Well, I understand. However,  _ you _ have to understand that I’m a poor hi—college student, and tuition isn’t cheap. And I’ll have you know, this superhero thing doesn’t pay well.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m sure tuition for  _ high school _ students is  _ so _ expensive, especially if you aren’t paying for it.”

Peter freezes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, making his voice a little deeper and standing straighter.

“You’re not fooling anyone, kid, so drop it. And I know  _ exactly _ where this conversation is goin’, so I’m telling you right here, I refuse to be shaken down by some teenager in spandex. You want chore money, I’m not the guy to ask. The most you’re getting out of this is, like, a coffee or something when we meet up. But none of that fancy crap, that shit’s expensive.”

“Really? You’re trying to convince me, and you won’t even hypothetically spring for the good stuff? Anyone ever tell you you’re bad at negotiating.”

“It’s probably come up before. Why do you even want any money, it’s not like you’re living on the streets or something.” Eddie pauses. “He’s not, is he?” The last part isn’t directed at him, probably Venom, and he continues, saying, “That doesn’t mean anything . . . We can’t, it’s rude . . .”

“I’m actually not, if that helps,” Peter adds.

“Then why do you want my money?!” Eddie exclaims. “You already get your cut from the Bugle with those photos you sell of yourself!” Immediately after he says it, Peter sees the regret plain on his face. “Shit—that’s not—fuck, I didn’t . . .”

“Wait, what photos?” Peter says shakily, trying desperately to be nonchalant.

“Ah, crap. You know what I mean, kid. The photos you sell to the Daily Bugle. I mean, only Spider-Man himself could take them, it’s really obvious.”

“What? No—I—no. Why would you—that’s not. No. I don’t—I mean . . . It’s not like  _ you _ don’t have any secrets!”

“Everyone has secrets!” Eddie says quickly. “Shit, he can’t know,” he mutters to himself.

“What if I do? What then? You gonna  _ eat  _ me?” Right after he says it, Peter knows that this was the  _ wrong thing _ to say. He knew it was even as he said it, but it seemed that his foot-in-mouth disease was acting up again.

Eddie pauses, his eyes wide, and a dark shape starts forming over his shoulder.

** “Why, little Spiderling, we could  _ never _ hurt you,” ** Venom says, sickly sweet, its face taking shape.

Peter freezes, standing stock still as he was confronted by the thing that had been the biggest, scariest thorn in his side for the past week. “Fuck,” he says quietly, his mind blank as he desperately tries to remember his escape plan.

“Venom!” Eddie exclaims, trying to push the floating head away. “You’re scaring him, stop it!”

** “Aw, come on, Eddie. Let us have this.” **

“Nuh-uh, this has gone on too long, and I’m putting a stop to this before we put this poor kid in an early grave.”

** “By eating him!” **

“No! Christ, you’re impossible,” Eddie mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Peter, at this point, was very confused. Did Venom really want to kill him? It seemed a little hopeful to think that it didn’t, but if this conversation was anything to go off . . .

“I thought you liked Spider-Man, what’s with this ‘we’re a big, scary monster’ bullshit.”

** “Like we have said before, it is fun.” **

“Yeah, well, if we keep this up, he’s gonna tell someone. Then where will we be? Some off the books lab in the middle of nowhere, that’s where.”

Venom narrows its eyes and mutters something under its breath.  ** “Fine,” ** it says, turning to look at Peter.  ** “We are  _ so sorry _ for our behavior, and will endeavor to stop it in the future.” ** It’s said very sarcastically, and Eddie gives Venom a Look, but it’s the most comforting Peter’s gotten from either of them so far, so he’ll take it.

“So you . . .  _ don’t _ want to eat me?” he asks, very cautiously.

Eddie sighs. “No, Venom’s just a dick.”

** “Pussy.” **

“Parasite.” Venom glares at him, and Eddie grins. “Anyways, they’re really harmless once you get to know them. You just gotta get past the outer shell of hostility and unfriendliness.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter says, nodding slowly. “So . . . what I'm hearing is that you've been joshing me this whole time? Just, scaring me outta my mind because you thought it was _ fun _ ? That’s messed up.”

** “The thing is, you do not see it from our perspective.” **

“And that is?”

** “You should have seen the look on your face all the times we ran into you!”  ** Venom exclaims, laughing to itself.

“You’re okay with this?” Peter asks, turning to Eddie, hoping to get some sense out of him.

Eddie shifts uncomfortably on his feet, a faint smile on his face. “Well, I mean, not really. But they weren’t  _ actually _ hurting you, so I didn’t think it mattered all that much. I wasn’t, like 100% cool with it, but Venom can be pretty persuasive, and . . .”

“And . . .”

“It was pretty funny how you acted whenever we cornered you,” Eddie says, joining Venom in its laughter.

Peter just sighs, regarding the two . . . peop—bein—individuals in front of him. This was, honestly, one of, if not the, weirdest situation he’d ever found himself in. He wasn’t in any immediate danger (that he knew of), and he was just . . .  _ talking _ with two of the most fickle personalities he’d come across.

“Oh, sorry about that, kid,” Eddie says, wiping tears from his eyes. “Venom started it, and our emotions can be kinda weird because they bounce off each other.”

The science nerd in Peter wants to ask so many questions about this (and a lot of others he’d had since finding out about Venom in general), but it would probably be best to save the Q&A for later.

“Anyways,” Eddie continues, “This conversation has gotten  _ really _ off the rails.”

“Yeah, I’d say. And, just, like, to clarify and everything, you know who I really am?”

“Yep, Peter Parker, high school student, Spider-Man, takes selfies of himself and sells them for money.” He chuckles a little at the last part, but stops himself before it gets too out of hand.

Peter glares at him, and, feeling petty, says, “And you’re Eddie Brock, once okay-ish reporter, now unemployed journalist bonded to some sentient parasitic organism who needs said high schooler’s help to get a job.”

Eddie and Venom just  _ stare _ at him for a few seconds and Peter internally kicks himself and curses his ever-present foot-in-mouth disease.

** “ _ Now _ can we eat him?” ** Venom asks eventually.

“Y’know, my morals say no, but my dislike of smart-mouthed teens says yes.”

Peter was about 95% sure they were just joking, but Venom looked just a  _ little _ too happy about what Eddie said. “So anyways!” he interjects quickly. “Speaking of conversations that go off the rails.”

Eddie looks vaguely confused for a few seconds before realization alights on his face and he nods in understanding. “Right. Uh, so we were talking about my job thingy, and I brought up the interviews, then you wanted compensation for . . .” he pauses for a few seconds before exclaiming, “You freeloader! The friendly neighbor here, cheating poor journalists out of their money, for shame I say, for shame!”

Peter opens and closes his mouth like a fish for a few seconds, before taking a deep breath and saying, “My only response is that I am small, and have no money, so you can imagine the kind of stress that I’m under.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, and Venom says,  ** “While it was a very good choice to quote John Mulaney at us, Eddie was asleep while we watched his shows on Netflix, and thus is immune. And despite that, we are on Eddie’s side and agree that you should ‘suck it up, buttercup’ and agree to do interviews with us every now and again.” **

Peter didn’t really have any response to that (and, honestly, the fact that Venom watched John Mulaney was simultaneously the weirdest and funniest thing he had ever heard), so he didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, uh,” Eddie starts, eyeing Peter and Venom oddly. “Look, kid. You’re not an adult yet, so I guess I can cut you some slack, but there’s things we gotta pay for. Like rent, food, and all that other crap. It gets expensive, especially here in New York. So how about this. I can talk with Jameson about  _ maybe _ , and I do mean  _ maybe _ , giving you a raise. And I’ll buy you food, or coffee, or whatever whenever we go out, okay. Deal?”

Peter considers this for a few moments, before deciding that it was more than fair. “Deal,” he says, holding his hand out and they shake on it.

“Great!” Eddie says, turning to Venom. “Now that we’ve got that settled, I should probably tell Mary we’re gonna be stickin’ around a little longer than she first expected.”

** “I think she may already know, or at least suspect.” **

“Yeah, true, true,” Eddie says, starting to walk away.

Peter pauses. He still really needed to talk with them about the whole eating/maiming/killing people thing, as much as they had used it for comedic purposes earlier. But was now really the time. Before he could really think about it too much, he shouts, “Hey, wait!”

They turn around, looking confused. “What is it, kid?”

“I, uh . . . still need to talk with you about something.”

“Yeah, it’s getting late. How about tomorrow?”

“That works, I guess.”

“Same place, 4:00. That work for you?”

“Yeah.”

“M’kay, see ya then.”

“Mh-hm. See ya.” Peter walks away from the park, an uneasy feeling in his chest.

**. . . **

As Venom slips back under his skin, Eddie watches Peter walk away, his shoulders slumped. “What do you think’s gotten into him?”

** Not sure. We will find out tomorrow. **

“Yeah. I just hope Mary isn’t too mad at us.”

** Aw, come on. She loves us. It will be fine, you big baby. **

“I sure hope so,” Eddie mutters, starting back towards the apartment.


	10. Life Choices and Tentative Alliances

“ _Edward Brock, you get your bitch ass in here right this instant_!”

This was, in Eddie’s opinion, not the ideal way to start his Tuesday morning, but it was better than others he’d had in the past.

**Why is Mary mad at us?**

“Dunno, love,” Eddie mutters, slowly sitting up on the couch and rubbing his hands over his face.

**We should probably go see why.**

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

**Then why are you still just sitting here.**

“ ‘Cause ‘m tired.”

“ _Eddie_!”

“Alright, jeez, I’m comin’,” he mutters, sluggishly getting off the couch and walking into the bathroom. “What is it?”

“Toothpaste,” is all she says, pointing at the open tube laying on the counter.

“What about it?”

Mary pauses, an indecipherable look on her face, and Eddie, in that moment, remembers all the times when they were kids that she’d gotten upset at him for leaving his clothes on the floor of the bathroom (even though she did it too sometimes) and the perpetually un-capped tubes of toothpaste (it was hard to remember, okay) and he’s swept up in a small little wave of nostalgia that quickly dissipates when he sees that she’s miffed and that’s probably not the best mood to have her in.

“Okay, got it,” he says quickly, screwing the lid onto the toothpaste.

“And the razor,” she says, nodding to the disposable tool in the sink.

Eddie picks it up and throws it in the trash.

“Thanks,” she says, giving a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Remember the rule about communal spaces?”

“Always clean up after yourself?”

“Boy Scout rules, dumbass. ‘Always leave it better than you found’, or whatever.”

“Close enough.”

Mary rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Now go on, git,” she says, shooing him out of the bathroom.

**What does she mean by communal spaces?**

“Spaces used by two or more people, i.e. me and her.”

**Her and I.**

“Actually, it’s her and me, I was more correct,” Eddie says, opening the fridge

**Your language is bullshit.**

“Never said it wasn’t, V. So, what’re we feelin’ in the ways of food today.”

**Brains. And chocolate.**

“Jeez, you sound like a zombie or something. How about eggs, you like eggs.”

**Fine. But we still need to talk to Mary. And call Jameson. Not to mention the meeting with the Spiderling later today.**

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie says, getting the eggs out of the fridge and glancing at the clock on the microwave. It was currently 7:17. “We can talk to Mary tonight, she needs to leave in about ten minutes.”

**What about Jameson.**

“Eh, we have time.”

**You always say that, and it always ends with you procrastinating until the very last minute.**

“Exactly, I have _time_ to procrastinate.”

Venom just sighs. Eddie was, often, an idiot.

**. . .**

“So, what’ve we got going on in Biology today?” Ned asks, stealing one of Peter’s Doritos.

“Hm, I think you know,” Peter says, raising his eyebrows.

“Ugh, don’t—don’t even say the word, please don’t.”

“Notes,” Peter says, grinning.

“You’re the worst.”

“Hey, I’m not the one made up the curriculum.”

“True, I blame the American schooling system.”

“And so you should,” Peter agrees, eating some of his chips. “Oh, dude, you will not _believe_ what happened to me yesterday.”

“Tch, I’ve heard enough of your superhero weirdness to confidently state: I am immune! Hit me with your best shot.”

“Well, I met up with Venom yesterday.”

That seemingly gives Ned pause, but he just shakes his head a little and just raises an eyebrow. “That's . . . interesting. What happened?”

“Honestly, looking back it feels like some weird fever dream. Eddie called and said he wanted to talk, and when I showed up he just asked me to agree to an interview every once and awhile.”

“Like, for a newspaper?”

“The Daily Bugle, for whatever reason, wants a Spider-Man specific column.”

“ _The_ Daily Bugle? As in J. Jonah Jameson and his whole ‘He’s a menace’ tirade?”

“The very same.”

“Did you say yes?”

“Well, yeah, but everything leading up to that is what’s important here. Venom has, apparently, been screwing with me this whole time.”

“Really?”

“Yep. According to both of them, they haven’t wanted to hurt me at all, and only put on this show of ‘we’re a big scary monster, and we’re gonna eat you’ thing because they thought it would be _funny_.”

Ned chuckles, before quickly covering his mouth and trying to pass it off as a cough. He clears his throat. “That’s just . . . so mean.”

Peter just shakes his head and sighs. “You too? Go ahead, laugh it up. Lemme tell you, it was not nearly as hilarious from my perspective.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Ned says, fighting to keep his smile down. “So, Venom’s, like, not actually a villain?”

“Apparently not, but even if you asked them, I bet they’d be all, ‘Oh, we’re not evil, we only eat _bad_ people’. Tch, as if that makes it any better.”

“So, more anti-hero than anything?”

Peter hangs his head. “I’m never telling you about my superhero exploits again, especially not involving Deadpool. That’s a made-up word for a man who wants to justify his crazy, not something applicable to any and all ‘good intentioned’ bad guys.”

Ned just shrugs. “Speaking of which, have you talked to Venom about the whole eating people thing? That seems pretty important.”

Peter clears his throat nervously and shifts in his seat. “Well, no, not yet. But, I am meeting with them tonight to talk about it, so there’s that.”

“You think they’ll agree, or are they more likely to break whatever tentative truce you’ve got going on right now?”

“I honestly don’t know, and that’s the scariest part. We’re gonna be meeting in Central Park, and I already have an escape plan at the ready in case things fly south, so I think I’ll be good.”

“If you say so. Just, be careful, dude.”

“I will, and Eddie seems like he’s able to keep Venom mostly in check, so I think it’ll all work out.”

“That’s good. I just hope you’re right.”

“Me too.”

**. . .**

**Eddie.** Venom says, trying to keep their volume down. Raised voices were not appreciated, and usually got them nowhere when dealing with people. **Eddie, stop ignoring us.**

Eddie, predictably, says nothing, content to pretend they didn't exist for a while.

**This is very immature, you cannot keep this up indefinitely.**

Still, nothing.

 **Eddie!** Venom exclaims, finally ready to give up the subtle approach.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie says, jumping in his seat. “What, V, what is it?”

**Call Jameson.**

“Really? Again, with the nagging, I already said I'd do it.”

**You have time now. You are not doing anything.**

“ ‘M watchin’ TV. You can't just pry me away from . . .” he trails off, glancing at the screen. “Once Upon a Time.”

**You are not even paying that much attention.**

“Am too.”

**Then what happened this episode?**

“Uh . . .”

**Thought so. Call him.**

“Oh my God, fine.” Eddie says exasperatedly, standing up and getting his phone from where it was charging. “I’ve had it with all your complaining, it’s been _hours_.”

Pointedly ignoring the smugness he could feel radiating from his other, Eddie dials Jameson’s number.

_“Hello, who’s this?”_

“Jameson, hey, it’s Eddie Brock.”

_“Eddie, glad to hear from you. So, made up your mind yet?”_

“Uh, yeah. I’ll take the job.”

_“That’s great! I’ll need you to come in tomorrow, show you how things work around here.”_

“Sure, what time?”

_“Let’s say 8:00. That work for you?”_

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

_“Good, good. See you then.”_

“Uh-huh. See ya then.”

The call ends and Eddie leans back into the couch, letting out a long sigh.

**See. Was that so bad?**

“No,” he admits, and it’s the truth. It just wasn’t the phone call itself that had put him off from doing it.

**Knew it.**

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. What time is it?”

**2:00.**

“We’re gonna have to start getting ready in, like, an hour.”

**Ah, yes, to see the Spiderling. What do you think he wants with us?**

“Not a clue, but he did seem pretty nervous about it yesterday, so probably nothing good.”

**True. Or, he could still be jumpy because of us. We are very scary.**

“Nah, I think he’s gotten over that, for the most part. Now that he knows you’re not out to get him.”

**Maybe you are correct, maybe you are not. We shall see.**

**. . .**

“Okay, it’s okay, you got this, you can do this,” Peter stops his pacing and takes a deep breath. “Oh, what are you thinking, you can’t do this,” he says, leaning against a tree.

So, maybe he was a little nervous about talking with Eddie and Venom. The fact that he was in civies might have a little to do with that, although he was wearing his costume underneath, and had the mask in his pocket in case a speedy escape was required. He once again thought about just running and not looking back, but before he could make a formal decision, he sees Eddie wave at him from a few yards away.

Steeling himself, Peter walks over and raises a hand in greeting. “Hey,” he says awkwardly.

“Hey,” Eddie says, sounding similarly uncomfortable. “So, what is it you wanna talk to us about?”

Peter clears his throat and shifts nervously. “Oh, well, um . . . Uh, can Venom, like, manifest themself, or something, that might make this easier.” He was mostly stalling, because he still wasn’t quite sure how to breach the topic.

“Sure, I guess,” Eddie says, looking vaguely confused.

Venom slowly starts taking shape in the same spot on Eddie’s shoulder, their terrifying grin looming over him. **“What is it, little Spiderling?”**

Feeling once again miffed by the nickname, Peter says, “It’s Spider-Man.”

“More like Spider- _Boy_ ,” Eddie mutters at the same time Venom says, **“The Spiderling is a small child, and we feel very confident in our choice of description for him.”**

“I’m right here, y’know.”

**“We are aware. Now, what is it you want to talk to us about?”**

“Uh, you actually. I know you guys are, like, vigilantes, or something, but I need you to stop.”

“Why?” Eddie asks, taking a more defensive stance.

“Well, you have a more . . . violent approach to things, and that’s kinda frowned upon here.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “This is about the whole ‘eating people’ thing, isn’t it?”

“Yep.”

“Okay. Look, kid, I know this is a big thing for you and all, and I personally don’t really like it that much either, but Venom _needs_ to do it.”

“What do you mean?”

**“What he means is that if we do not, then we will slowly begin consuming his body, unintentionally.”**

“Yeah. They get really hungry, and it feels like we’re starving. The only other thing that really helps is chocolate.”

Peter pauses. “So, you’re saying it’s like when you stop eating and the body starts to slowly devour muscle and tissue as fuel instead?”

“More or less.”

“That’s really interesting,” Peter murmurs, mostly to himself. “Y’know, I might be able to help you with that.”

“Really?”

“I mean, I would have to do some more research, but I would guess that Venom needs some of the chemicals in the human body to properly function.” Peter gets a vaguely disgusted look on his face before asking, “Is there any part in particular that gives you more energy, or helps abate the hunger more?”

**“Heads.”**

Peter nods. “Well, I can’t say anything for certain, but I might be able to find out what chemicals you need and make you a sort of alternative food that you can eat instead.”

“You can do that?” Eddie asks, looking hopeful.

“Probably. And if I can, then you guys don’t have to do the whole vigilante justice thing anymore.”

“Oh, uh . . .” Eddie trails off, an uncomfortable look on his face. “Even if you can do that, I wasn’t really planning on stopping. I mean, we’ll definitely stop the whole killing/maiming thing, but we’ll still be going out.”

“Why?”

“Well, you won’t stop being Spider-Man, even though you don't have to. It’s exhilarating, and with the kinda journalism I like to do, I get into plenty of tight spots.”

“As long as you guys keep it down and don’t kill anyone, I guess that’s fine.” Peter pauses. “But it might be best if I supervise and help you get into the swing of things.”

“First off, that pun was not nearly as sneaky as you thought it was, and secondly, we’re not taking the advice of some teenager.”

“If you say no, I’ll tell the Avengers about you.”

Eddie freezes, something akin to horror on his face. “You wouldn’t,” he says quietly.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Peter admits. “But, I can’t just let two green ‘superheroes’ loose on New York. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Pete, I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions, and I’d say I know better than a kid.”

“Says the guy who was fine with eating other people.”

Eddie winces. “Okay, low blow. But we only ate bad people, and I tried to keep it to a minimum.”

“Doesn’t change it.”

**“I agree with the Spiderling.”**

Eddie gasps and turns to Venom. “Traitor! You’re supposed to be on my side.”

**“He does have a point, loathe as you are to admit it.”**

“He’s a _kid_.”

**He’s going to _help us_ , and not alert anyone to our presence, so I think the least we can do is agree to his demands.”**

Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but pauses. He sighs, looking back at Peter. “Fine,” he says reluctantly. “You can . . . _supervise_ us, or whatever. But not for forever, just a few weeks so you can teach us ‘Superhero 101’, or whatever.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Wouldn’t wanna keep you any longer than I had to.”

“Good. And, uh . . . you’ll really help us?”

“Uh-huh. You can count on it.”

“Thanks, kid.”

“No problem. I’m just glad we could settle this civilly.”

“As opposed to what? We duke it out in the middle of Central Park? No thanks.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be so fun.”

“Nope. Anyways, is that all? ‘Cause me ‘nd V need to get home and talk to my sister about a few things.”

“You’re staying with your sister.”

“Uh-huh, and she’s been pretty cool about it so far, thankfully.”

“Oh, well, good luck, I guess.”

“I’m gonna need it,” Eddie mutters, starting to walk away. “Anytime you wanna start with your Superhero-ing lessons, just shoot us a text.”

“I will,” Peter says, pulling on his mask. Well, at least he hadn’t messed things up too badly. Now he was just gonna have to survive trying to teach Venom how to be a hero.

**. . .**

“Eddie,” Mary says when he walks through the door. “Where you been?”

“Out with a friend,” he says immediately. It was infinitely less suspicious than, ‘Oh, y’know, just hangin’ with Spider-Man, no big’.

“You have fun?”

“Yep. How long you been home?” Eddie asks, sitting down on the couch.

“Few minutes.”

“Work okay today?”

“Eh, it wasn’t awful.”

“That’s good.” Eddie takes in a deep breath. “So, uh, I need to talk to you.”

“Uh-oh. It’s never a good thing when someone says that.”

“Depends why they wanna talk.”

“True, true. So, what is it?”

“Well, uh, we got offered a job at the Daily Bugle a few days ago.”

“And?”

“And we took it.”

“Ah. You wanna know if you're welcome to stay at casa de Mary.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says sheepishly. “I was gonna ask earlier, but I couldn’t really find the right time, and—”

“Whoa, Whoa, calm down, dude. No need to explain, I get it. And yes, you can stay. But, since you’ve got a job now I’ma be expecting some rent.”

“Of course. Although, when’s the lease up on this place?”

“Next month, why?”

“Well, this is a one-bedroom place, and your couch isn’t exactly the most comfortable thing in the world, and there’s another apartment in this complex that’s empty and _is_ two bedroom, and if you wouldn’t mind rooming with your annoying little brother, maybe we could move there.”

Mary nods. “Eh, I was thinkin’ of looking for a roommate anyways, and I’d rather live with you than some stranger. Sure, why not.”

“Really?”

“Yep, I can talk to my landlord about it tomorrow. She’s pretty cool, so I think it’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure . . .”

“ ‘Course I am. You were always the one that went off half-cocked while I kept my cool head, so chill.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“It’s true, and you know it. So, you feel like doing anything in particular tonight?”

“Not really.”

“Hm. Netflix?”

“Netflix."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap. Final chapter guys, thank you all for the wonderful comments and kudos, it really warms my heart. I'm probably gonna do a sequel to this (I've already started, don't worry) so keep an eye out for that. Thanks for reading, hope you liked it!


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